Rightly Considered Inconvenience
by Lammergeier
Summary: Sequel to Adventure Loves Company, Too. Read that first if you haven't! Claryssa is found again, thrown into an adventure that reaches farther over her head than she would like, as is trying to come to grips with her old friends and new experiences. Rating for language, violence, and some themes unsuitable for young kids. Reviews are cherished!
1. Begin Again

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 1: Begin Again.

A/N: Aaaawwwwww, here it goes!  
Sequel to Adventure Loves Company, Too. If you haven't already, go read it. It gets better, honest.

* * *

Netherstorm had grown quiet in recent years. There wasn't much to do in Outland anymore since the major competitors of dominion had been taken out. Illidan was killed in Shadowmoon, Kael'thas was destroyed in both Netherstorm AND Quel'danas, and there had even been talk of going back in time. Shaheen didn't really doubt the last one. He had seen some pretty crazy stuff in his life, and being a creature made of arcane energy didn't really allow him much skepticism about things. The Consortium didn't really have any interest in all of the fleshlings' running about, and time-travel wasn't deemed a very lucrative industry. There were some who fiddled with the idea, and wound up only being able to send things forward in time. Made sense in a way, though. Sending someone back in time would create continuity problems, and all projected continuity issues that arose would result in a net loss.

And losses were bad.

Although at this point, it would at least give him something to do. He was sitting at a Protectorate camp at...well, he had totally forgotten where he was, he had been here for so long. His current role was to collect odds and ends, find things that could be salvaged...then sell them to the goblins at 150% plus. Shaheen liked the goblins. They were quirky little creatures, and fleshlings after his own heart. They truly understood value. Or at least, truly understood it better than the other races. Unfortunately for them though, they were woefully inept compared to an Ethereal's bartering skills. After he felt he had collected enough goods he would trek out across Netherstorm to various encampments and seek out the nearest goblin.

He always came back from these little treks with profit. One time he had even come back 374.6% ahead. It was the highlight the season when he returned from goblin skinning to count out his gains. It also helped that he had taken to calling his merchandise what it truly was - junk. For some indiscernible reason, the goblin mind when absolutely berserk when confronted by a pile of nick-knacks and miscellanea nonchalantly dismissed as "junk."

However, even that was starting to seriously bore the ethereal. Peace was all well and good, but give him a good war any day. Wars brought in profits. Peace barely broke even. Shaheen had been getting increasingly dismayed as his wonderful red line of profit that was once so happily rising even above the chart that he had originally drawn had now turned into practically a straight line. It didn't help that Netherstorm was exceedingly dull.

Purple stretched out as far as the eye could see. Purple and gray. Sometimes the monotony was broken by a bit of black thrown in here or there, but it was largely just purple. It didn't help his case that his body was made of glowing energy of a similar hue as the environment. It was discouraging. The only flashes of color he ever saw was from going to the goblins or by going into an eco-dome, but he didn't really like the eco-domes. It was always a weird sensation passing through the barrier, and he didn't much care for jungles. The rich smell of life was almost nauseating, and the last time he had gone into one, a raptor tried to pounce him.

He found himself severely missing the paladin. He liked it when the paladin was around. The elf was somewhat insufferable at times, but he had a sarcasm that was often lost on his peers. Shaheen sighed and lounged back against his chair. Netherstorm had become so boring. There was more to it, though. He had been feeling quite unfulfilled recently. It was almost as though he was physically fatigued, which was just silly to comprehend. He didn't even have a physical body left anymore to be fatigued. He pondered this, and decided to list this particular sensation as "fatigued melancholy." He rather liked that label.

As if in response to his boredom, there was a roar from up above. A dark steel-blue proto-drake descended from the sky, atop which sat the paladin that the trader was pining for. He liked this particular mount. It was his favorite one by far that he had seen the elf riding. It always interested him how the drake was encased in steel. The elf had said something about something to do with titans and elderly gods, but again it wasn't something that caught Shaheen's interest. The drake was like a little puppy towards his master, and even after the paladin had dismounted, the great blue and black drake followed at his heels, trying in vain to not knock over piles of crates with his wings that he used to support himself as he walked across the ground. There wasn't much other option for it, what with those stubby little devilsaur arms the poor beast had.

Shaheen spirit was lifted when he saw the elf stride straight for him. He had a glorious honey blond head of hair that was slicked back and draped elegantly over his back and shoulders. He was dressed in a plate robe in glorious shades of red, gold, and black. It was like a fire walked into the shadowy blandness of Netherstorm. The ethereal then took a mental step backwards and realized he was getting overly-poetic again. If he kept going like this, he would start to think that he was enamored with the guy. Which would be just silly. He was just happy to have something to look at that wasn't _purple_. He did take that time to notice a few more lines at the corners of the elf's mouth, and the previously existing lines had become more pronounced.

"Xeledar, my dear friend, what are you up to today?" Shaheen kicked his legs off his desk and onto the ground in an exaggerated gesture, and stood to greet the elf.

"Babysitting, apparently," he replied. He was surly, and his long eyebrows twitched every now and then. The reason for his frustration became apparent quite quickly. A human girl staggered out from behind him. She was ragged, and had a wild look about her. She was wearing torn robes, and her hair was dirty. She had smudges of dried muck on her face.

"Who's your little friend?" the ethereal walked over to the girl, who immediately jumped back behind Xeledar, and glared at him with a surprisingly vicious expression. "I'm worried she might bite me," Shaheen said, only half-jokingly.

"She just might." Xeledar pushed on the girl's head. "Be nice, or I'll drop you right back off where I found you."

"Where did you find her?"

"Zangarmarsh. She was hiding out in a hollowed-out log. Her freaking weird lizard nearly bit my face off."

"Weird lizard?"

"Her warp stalker. Big brute of a thing. He phased behind me and jumped me. I wasn't expecting to encounter one of those damned lizards there, it caught me completely off guard."

Sure enough, there was a hiss behind them as a big fifteen foot blue and red monstrosity phased into reality next to the girl. It hissed balefully at the paladin before nuzzling against the little girls thigh.

"That's kind of outrageous," Shaheen observed.

"It's more than outrageous." Xeledar scowled. "Anyway, she called off her enormous watchdog there, and I dunno. She just looks so...pitiful."

He had to agree with that. The girl was scrawny and looked as if she had been out in the wilderness for quite a while. Shaheen felt his fingers twitch as he felt an overwhelming urge to clean the girl up. He wasn't particularly bent on cleanliness, but it was almost an affront to nature how dirty she was. Then again, who knows how long she was living in Zangarmarsh? He sighed.

"Well, we have a washing station, but it's not really made for living things. We use it to clean out machinery or artifacts that we find."

The girl looked at him again, this time without the glare. Without the malice, she had a peculiar kind of innocence about her that was strangely disarming. He was suddenly a lot less confused as to why the paladin was so willing to carry the girl around with him.

"It'll do. I'm starting to worry about my armor smelling like swamp mud. Come on, girl." He motioned for her to follow him.

"Claryssa," she said, her voice surly. Xeledar turned to look at her.

"Well, you do know how to speak," he said sourly. "I was starting to think you were mute."

Claryssa sniffed disdainfully. She walked around to the warp stalker's side and sat down on the animal's back, crossed her am and set her face into an aloof pout. The lizard shuffled after the paladin, who rolled his eyes.

"Like a princess riding her litter," he grumbled as he passed by Shaheen. "She's been like this the whole way."

If the ethereal could grin, he would.

* * *

It was a little while later, and they were all sitting about a table having a meal. That is, Shaheen watched the other two eat. He was impressed with the girl and how well she cleaned up. Her hair was a golden blond that was a few shades lighter than the paladin's, and her dusky blue eyes were focused intently on the food in front of her. her skin was surprisingly smooth and fair, but the trader reminded himself that she had been covered in mud in the murk of Zangarmarsh for probably quite a while. She was seriously restraining herself, taking barely civil bites of her food. He was certain that if there was no one around, she would have plunged face-first into the plate.

"So what have you been up to, friend?" Xeledar said after a while, breaking the silence.

"Oh, not much. Surprisingly, I've been getting bored with with turning goblins upside down for their pocket change." Shaheen stretched out and crossed his ankles. "I think I need a change of scenery."

Xeledar grunted. He took one last bite of his food and leaned back in his chair, looking up toward the dark sky to contemplate the subtly shifting ribbon of glowing dust and debris that arced from horizon to horizon. "It does get boring after you've been everywhere."

"Especially when there is no more profit to be had," Shaheen muttered. He sighed as his mind traveled back to his profit line.

"Of course," the elf said with a sardonic twist on his lips. The other didn't reply, and there was silence again for a little while. Claryssa finally finished off her third plate of food, and settled back to relax. Her massive warp stalker waddled over to her and set its enormous head in her lap. She stroked its head absently and stared at some point four feet beyond the edge of the table.

"So, my dear," Shaheen began, leaning forward to set his elbows on the table, "how did you get to be in such a terrible state?"

She jumped, taken off guard by being addressed directly. She shifted slightly, and her eyes darted between him, Xeledar, her plate, and the lizard.

"Well, it's kind of a weird story," she said, quietly. He figured that she hadn't had much contact with sentient creatures, and hadn't spoken much. She started into a story that was actually quite silly. A big adventure across Azeroth, with a slew of unlikely characters. Strangely though, Shaheen found himself very engaged, and his interest gave the girl more confidence. Her voice steadily grew stronger and her storytelling more dynamic. Eventually, she got to the final battle in Desolace, and her forced teleportation.

"So this guy sent you to Zangarmarsh?" Xeledar interjected. He had spent the whole time staring up at the sky, and hadn't shown much external acknowledgement other than an eyebrow twitch here and a tightening of his lips there. He righted himself and leaned forward to look at her, his hand massaging the back of his neck.

"No, that would be ridiculous," Claryssa scoffed. "There is absolutely nothing in Zangarmarsh. I was sent to Shadowmoon Valley. I was standing in Desolace, and then there was a bright green flash, and then I passed out. When I woke up, I was in a large cage." She shuddered. "I didn't like Shadowmoon. Its color palette is an eyesore, and its denizens leave much to be desired."

"So how did you get out?" Shaheen asked, urging her to get back on point.

"That was thanks to Azbek," she said, stroking the lizard fondly. It crooned at her, and wagged its massive spiked tail once. "I don't really know how it happened. After a couple of months there, I was going crazy. I thought for sure the demons in that camp would have long since killed me...but this was worse. They just ignored me. Left me there. Sure, they gave me food and water, but I was left completely alone. No jeering like they did to the couple of other prisoners around me. I got sick of it, I needed to get out. I was laying on Azbek at one point, and he phase shifted, and I somehow went with him."

Now this was interesting. Shaheen leaned even farther forward. He had never heard of anyone going _with_ a warp stalker when it went invisible. He would have to investigate this. Claryssa shrugged in response to the silent question, "_how?_"

"I don't know how it happened. I saw the world around me change. All of a sudden, everything was shadowy and seemed...insubstantial. Anyway, I saw the demons come to my door to give me food, but I wasn't in the cage. They opened the door wider and stepped into the cage, opening up the way out. Azbek took that opportunity and ran forward, me holding on to him for dear life. He's nice to ride on for a leisurely walk, but when he starts running, it gets very hard to keep your grip. I nearly got thrown off as he charged through the demon camp. He didn't stop running for a long time after we left the camp." She paused to think. "I wouldn't have survived a lot of things if it weren't for him."

"What I don't understand," Xeledar started, "is that to get from Shadowmoon to Zangarmarsh, you need to go through Terokkar. Terokkar has the biggest city left in Outlands, Shattrath. Why did you not simply go to Shattrath?"

The girl gave a little embarrassed chuckle and blushed. "See, I haven't got a very good sense of direction, and I knew literally nothing about Outland. I didn't even know where I was until after I escaped. I was also not very sane at the time. I'm still probably not." She grinned in a rather frightening manner. "Anyway, I finally got fed up with trying to survive while moving, so when I found the first habitable hole in the wall, I stopped and set up shop. I don't even know how long I lived in that mushroom stalk. I kind of don't want to know."

"What about your friends?" Shaheen asked. The girl blinked.

"I haven't thought much about that," she admitted. He could tell she felt bad about that now that she thought about it. "I don't know where they are or what they are doing. I don't even know what has happened on Azeroth in the time I've been gone. I don't even know how long I've been gone."

"Well, you mentioned Thrall as the Warchief," Xeledar said. "That makes it at least two years. Maybe almost three. Since then, the Horde has been very busy under the command of Garrosh Hellscream. He upgraded the Horde war machine, and it has been on a rampage. At least, it was for a little while. Then Deathwing ripped out of the Maelstrom and broke the world."

Claryssa cocked her head. The paladin flapped his hands in a half-assed gesture of wings.

"Big-ass dragon. He caused earthquakes throughout Azeroth, changed the geography a fair bit. Destroyed part of Stormwind. With his appearance, everyone was called to action to defeat him and his Twilight's Hammer cult. Eventually shit got serious and Thrall stepped up and killed him with the use of the Dragon Soul and a handful of heroes. Now that's all over and focus has been re-centered on war. Except there's something else that is going on, that I have absolutely no clue about. Or really any interest in. Something about pandas."

"What's a panda?" Shaheen asked, perplexed.

"It's a black and white bear."

"Sounds silly."

The paladin shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose eventually I'll find my way back to Azeroth and get thrown into the thick of things, but I think that I'm going to spend a little while here." His eyebrow twitched in irritation. "It was going to be a nice, leisurely time to myself, but I picked up this girl."

Claryssa sniffed again and crossed her arms. "I don't remember asking you to bring me with you." She paused, and her expression softened. "I am grateful though. Thank you."

The elf was obviously caught very off-guard by the show of appreciation. He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and shifted in his chair. "Yeah."

Shaheen loved these little moments where his friend was unsettled like this. "Oh, so the grumpy old elf has no sharp retort to a sweet little girl saying thank you?" he teased. "Maybe you do have a heart after all."

"Pfft," Xeledar dismissed the jab with a wave of his hand. "Any heart I have left has long since turned to jade. We both know that." He stood up abruptly and stretched his shoulders. "Perhaps we can continue the teasing of me tomorrow? Unlike you arcane beings, us fleshlings need rest."

"Of course." The ethereal stood himself and offered a hand to Claryssa. "My dear, could I show you the way?"

She gave him a suspicious look. "You calling me 'my dear' is making me nervous," she said, but took his hand anyway. He laughed.

"I mean nothing by it. Merely being sociable."

The camp became a lot more quiet after the two went to sleep in a small sectioned tent set aside for beings of a more corporeal disposition to rest in. The other ethereals in the camp were largely uninterested in Xeledar and Claryssa and went about their various activities. Shaheen lounged back in his chair again, looking over some unimportant bits of paperwork he had been neglecting.

Maybe these two were his ticket to that scenery change he had been hoping so much for.

* * *

There we go. It has started. Be prepared for infrequent updates, as the same with Adventure. Not because I mean to. I just have to get the right inspiration.  
Also, please don't take Xeledar's comments about the pandas seriously. I am super excited for the MoP expansion, and can't wait to make my hunter a panda. Those Pandaren girls...hnnnnng. They are so ridiculously cute, you don't even know. Especially with those red panda tails. They're just so darn adorable!


	2. Added Diversity

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 2: Added Diversity

A/N: It's a long time coming, I know. And Wolf Girl 811: I know that there is a long stretch between chapters, but I have a lot of stuff IRL I'm doing, such as job hunting and whatnot. I'm sorry, but there _are_more important things to be doing at the moment. However, I haven't forgotten you guys, and I really do want to give you guys something to read. I'm actually looking for ideas, as well. I'm not guaranteed to use them, but I am running dry on inspiration. You guys are free to track me down. Here are the ones I am on most often:

Tumblr: gatlerlok  
GaiaOnline: xrysos  
Pesterchum: timelessContrition  
Chickensmoothie: Makzi

Anyway, now that I have thought about it, Azbek's coloring has changed significantly between ALCT and last chapter. I'm just going to roll with it because I don't feel like changing it. He's teal now. Not black.

* * *

Shattrath looked much the same it has always been, and that was a fact that Jen'Zin found very comforting. The face of Azeroth had been changing a lot over the past decade, and he found himself feeling increasingly uneasy and insecure. Shattrath, however, was a solid rock, a foundation on which he could rely to never break or warp. The same people walked the streets as had years ago, despite everything that had happened on the ruined planet.

Much to his distaste, he had seen a few pandaren waddling about, gawking at the sights. Not that he had anything against pandaren personally, but they were very obnoxious in his eyes. He couldn't quite put his finger on why he didn't care for them, but he did actively avoid them. Maybe it was because they were always so damn calm.

He couldn't let them get him into a sour mood, though. He was excited to be in Outland again, mostly because that meaned that they were finally in the final stages of finding out what had become of their friend. Vague rumors had circulated back to Azeroth of some witch in Zangarmarsh who had popped up only recently, which looked promising. He had asked some of the locals in Shattrath, and they corroborated the story. What they could not agree upon was what this witch looked like. Some said she was a naga priestess, estranged from her clan. Some said she was a twisted and gruesome lost one, wielding magics beyond what her kind is normally capable of. There were some who said she was a blood elf, a draenei, an eredar, a lost soul, an undead monster...

If the witch really did turn out to be Claryssa, he would have to tell her about all the things people thought she was. He was sure that she would enjoy that.

They were sitting around in the Lower City, lounging against a piece of debris. Jen'Zin looked around their semi-circle, making a head count. Gat, Zalgash, and Gelt had met up with him before leaving Orgrimmar and journeyed with him to Shattrath. There, they had met up with Bhazrael, who had been in Shattrath for a good month prior for personal reasons. He figured that was just a fancy way of saying the elf was on vacation.

They were still missing Thal, who had confirmed she would be there. That was the only thing that was making the shaman hesitate about leaving. While he enjoyed being in Shattrath again, there was something that was nagging at him, making him uneasy. Gat had mirrored those feelings. Like there was "some skeevy bastard watchin'" them, as he had put it.

Gelt wanted to get moving, but for an entirely different reason. The poor druid had been plopped into a desk job on his return to Thunder Bluff, and had spent the past two years filling out aquisition forms and doing audits. He was eager to get back into the swing of things.

He hit Gat's shoulder to get his attention. His brother had taken to wearing an eye patch over his left eye, which never really recovered from their scuffle in Orgrimmar those few years ago, and had covered up the bad eye as the lack of congruity between the perception of both of his eyes gave him a bad headache. He knew that his brother wholly enjoyed his appearance, because Gat thought it made him look even more like a badass. Jen'Zin liked taking the opportunity to annoy him by sitting on his blind side.

"What're you thinking?" the shaman asked him, slipping into their own private language out of habit. They had been mocking their superiors for the past year and a half right in front of their faces using it. They had been put to menial tasks several times, but without their superiors having proof of what they were saying, they couldn't have severe punishments leveled against them for it.

"Not much. Just anxious to get moving."

"We all are," he said. "Excited?" Jen'Zin couldn't help but grin. His brother hadn't said anything about Claryssa at all since she had disappeared, but he had also refused all advances made by other women. It was an absolutely adorable side to his brother that he hadn't seen before, and it was very hard to resist the urge to hug him as hard as he possibly could.

"You know that I am, why are you bothering asking?"

"Stop chatting between yourselves, dammit," Zalgash growled, throwing a rock at them. "I have had to listen to the two of you jabber to yourselves in that inane language for nigh on two years, I am about to split my own skull. At least talk in zandali so I can understand at least some of what you are saying."

"Sorreh, jus' habit," the shaman apologized lamely. The orc glared at them. The troll grinned, but to no avail. The other maintained his glare. "Jus' wond'rin' when Thal's gonna get here so we can leave."

"Do we really have to wait for her?" Bhaz complained. He was leaning against the back of his felguard. Unlike the norm for warlocks, he had something of a real friendship with the demon, who was admittedly not the norm for demons. Most warlocks who used a felguard had long since upgraded to the wrathguard for a melee minion, but the elf stuck with Zarghoon.

Bhazrael had learned some new abilities, such as his so-called "dark apotheosis." It gave him abilities that were fairly well-suited to up-and-personal combat, something that Jen'Zin had never thought the elf would be suited for. The "bonus," as the elf put it, was that he had sprouted giant wings from his back. Bhaz had demonstrated that it is not at all permanent when the shaman started fretting over his appearance, but it still unnerved him. He found himself wishing the elf would put the wings away, but at the same time getting used to the wings, and the way the green glow of his eyes became a foul purple.

"She said she'd be here," Jen'Zin said, shrugging.

Bhaz grumbled but said no more. He turned his attention to Zarghoon's calico kitten, who was now an adult cat. The feline was purring at the elf's knee, rubbing his body against it in a bid for some attention. The elf obliged, and the cat arched appreciatively.

"She's supposed to have been here by now. Her letter did say about now, right?" asked Gelt.

"Yeh, 'm pretty sure."

There was silence for about ten minutes. They fidgeted with their clothing or weapons, eager to get going. Jen'Zin was about to say to start going without the night elf, when Gat suddenly nudged him and motioned up the road from them with his chin.

"Dere she is," he said.

They all stood up as one, and looked over where Gat had motioned. Sure enough, Thal was striding rather nonchalantly over to them. She waved cheerily at them. Perhaps a little too cheerily, because Jen'Zin started scanning behind her. He gave a sudden yelp and started to scramble out of the way, a second too late. With a buzz and a thunk, an arrow whizzed through the air and stuck the shaman to the rock behind them by his shirt. He tugged at the leather, and the arrow alternatively.

"Yeh'll nevah get dat arrow out like dat," a different voice said. The shaman turned to look at a pair of goggles right in his face. Jen'Zin made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a high-pitched girly scream. The goggles laughed and backed off a bit, revealing the troll wearing them.

"Vilzek! Ya bastard, whatcha do dat for?" Jen'Zin demanded angrily, completely ignoring his effeminate scream. He tugged again on the arrow and glared at the hunter.

He was the same as he had always been, weird goggles, a tusk missing and silver-streaked purple hair. The old troll grinned and gripped the arrow near its head and twisted slightly. It came free with a pop, and he threaded the arrow through the hole he had made in the shaman's shirt.

"Ya gone an' lost my pet, aftah I told ya not ta," he growled in response. He grabbed the front of Jen'Zin's shirt in a surprisingly firm grip and pulled him so they were nose-to-nose. "If Azbek's gotten 'imself hurt, I'm gonna inflict da same damage to ya."

"Y-yes, o' course."

"Sorry for being late, everyone," Thal said, without a trace of remorse. "I figured that we could use the help of an expert tracker, so I stopped by in Ashenvale while I was passing through to pick up Vilzek."

"That's not the only reason you grabbed him though, is it?" Gelt said, massaging feeling back into his legs.

"No, I wanted to see what would happen when he found out that Jen'Zin had lost his favored companion."

"Not 'ntireleh 'favored'," the hunter said. He motioned behind him, where an evil-looking bloodred wind serpent was casually following his tracks. The snake looked just as old as the hunter, but the sight of the beast made the party's skin crawl.

"Crawled t'rough so many Atal'ai ta get dis guy," Vilzek said, his chest swelling with pride. "Took me a bit ta get to 'im in dat temple in Swamp o' Sorrows, but 'e was wort' all da trouble." The wind serpent beat its wings and propelled itself swiftly towards and around its master, around whose shoulders it lounged happily. "'E creeps da fuck outta most people, but 'e's jus' an ador'ble lout." He patted the serpent's head fondly.

"Er, yeah, sure." Jen'Zin laughed uneasily. He then clapped his hands to draw attention to the matter at hand. "Well, now dat our friend," he shot a dark glance towards Thal, "has decided ta grace us wit' her presence, I t'ink we can now go."  
"Finally," Bhazrael groaned.

"What's with you, flyboy?" Thal smirked, taking in the warlocks winged appearence.

"Oh, shut up."

Thal opened her mouth to retort, but a voice to their side interrupted them.

"Pardon me." The voice was cold, devoid of any life. It sounded as if it had been dead for a long time.

They looked to the owner of the voice, and they all froze. The voice had indeed been dead for a long time, as had its owner. The death knight stood on the road, looking at them all with cold, glowing eyes. He had obviously been a rather handsome blood elf at some point, but his face was gaunt and frostbitten, and his hair had become brittle and death-bleached to something bordering on pale blue. He wore a set of rather unremarkable black and red armor. Around his feet crawled a scrawny and twisted form of a geist.

Jen'Zin did not like death knights. They were so _creepy_.

"Yes?" Zalgash said, after no one spoke up after a few moments.

"You are going searching for someone. I need to find someone myself. Perhaps we might be able to help each other," the undead elf said, his voice hollow. His voice was monotone, and almost sounded bored.

"Uh..." Zalgash was uncertain how to respond.

"You're uneasy," the elf said again. "I understand. You have nothing to fear from me, I merely need to find someone. I have yet to find him, although I do know where he was headed last. It happens to be in the same direction you are going, and it is safer to travel in groups." Even his face was devoid of any emotion.

"I suppose, but how do you know where we are going?" Thal asked. The death knight fixated his cold stare on her. She flinched slightly.

"I overheard your companions talking about going to Zangarmarsh a week ago. The person I need to find is supposed to be in that area, or farther."

"Why don't you just fly there?" Bhazrael asked.

"For the same reason you are not flying," he said, his gaze shifting over to the warlock, who attempted to hold the stare for as long as he could. "I know not where my quarry is, so flying may cause me to overlook him."

The group looked at each other uneasily. Zalgash cleared his throat. "I don't see why not," he said, trying to sound more okay with it than he obviously was. "What's your name?"

"Karaellin," the death knight replied. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

He didn't sound very pleased. But there was a short introduction around the circle. Vilzek, who had weaseled off without Jen'Zin noticing, re-arrived mounted on the back of his nether drake, Xerethaku.

"I thought we weren't flying anywhere," Gelt noted.

"You aren'," Vilzek said, shifting in his saddle. "I crawled t'rough dese damn forests enough fer a lifetime. I got no int'res' in doin' dat shit again. 'Sides, we can covah all our bases dis way."

"As if that brat would be flying," Bhaz muttered.

"We don't know what has happened, and we can't be certain that she isn't in flight with something of her own, or with someone else's aid," Thal said. "That's why I wanted to go pick up your friend, Jen. He seems to know what he's doing, and hunters are very good scouts. One of his age-ah, _experience_ is probably just as good in the air as he is on the ground, if not better."

Vilzek chuckled. "Flatt'ry will get ya ev'rywhere, my dear." Thal shot him a wink.

"It may be that who I seek could have picked up your friend," Karaellin said, folding his arms behind him. "He is drawn to hopeless cases. He likes to fly whenever possible."

"Well, then perhaps my foresight will pay off, no?" Thal said, clapping her hands. "Shall we get going? Don't want to sit around here growing mold."

Vilzek shook his drake's reigns, signalling for the dragon to take off. Instead, Xerethaku growled and shook himself irritably.

"Wat's yer problem now, mon?" the hunter said, punching the drake's neck.

"I don't want to fly around all day," Xerethaku complained.

"Yeh've sat on yer ass fer years, I t'ink dat it be time dat ya paid fer all da vacation days yeh've used." He snapped the reigns sharply, and the drake growled again, but obediently unfurled its wings and lifted off with a roar.

"What is it with you people and dysfunctional mounts?" Thal asked, cocking her head. "I swear, it's like you guys _like_ having to fight things unnecessarily."

"Let's just go," Zalgash muttered.


	3. The Worst Kind of Attention

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 3: The Worst Kind of Attention

A/N: Yup. Another chapter. I have really really wanted to add in this troll, even though he's temporary. I just love this troll, but would never in a million years want to be left alone in a room with him. Ever. I would demand a cyanide capsule, it would be more humane.  
I think it's pretty obvious by now that I am absolutely in love with troll men. ; u; They're so gorgeous.  
And why do I have so many rogue characters? I can't even play a rogue. It must be all the skin-tight leather.

* * *

Claryssa sat on Azbek's back, lounging lazily with her back against the lizard's neck, and her legs crossed in front of her. Azbek was perfectly happy waddling along with her on him, and probably enjoyed the attention more than the work. She preferred riding on the warp stalker's back to riding on Xeledar's proto drake; the beast's ungainly flapping made her motion sick. She had finally convinced them to walk through the remainder of the Blade's Edge Mountains after she had vomited over the poor drake's hindquarters.

Xeledar grumbled ahead, refusing to look at her. He hated walking over this terrain especially. Blade's Edge was hot and dusty over most of it, and it was always a miserable journey on foot. Shaheen strode calmly next to Claryssa, chatting with her. It was pretty nice chatting with the girl, as she had been through a very interesting time while traveling about Azeroth. The Ethereal had not had the opportunity to visit the planet, and for the most part had not wished to. The way she talked about certain places she had been, though, made the planet sound even more interesting than he had previously thought.

"I don't know how many of those things are still standing, though," the girl admitted. "Xeledar said a dragon wrecked the world."

"I see," Shaheen said, nodding. "Still, such a bustling area of activity like Stormwind, I am sure that it is a great place to visit, or even work. I bet that I could set up a good shop there."

"Do you only care about money?" Claryssa asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's all I have," Shaheen admitted. "Money is the one thing that exists in every society, and will always continue to exist. Empires rise and fall, wars begin and end; money is the only constant."

"I can't tell if that is really horrible or really smart," Claryssa mused, rubbing her chin.

"Probably both," Shaheen said, trying to make a grin audible in his speech.

They continued for several more hours, and slowly worked their way out of the dusty head of the steppes and into the sparse forest that carpeted the lowlands of the Mountains.

"Hey, morons," Xeledar shot back at them, his irritation obvious. "It's getting kind of late, any ideas where we should stop?"

"I think we are out of any remaining Legion activity in the area," Shaheen said, "but there are a lot of wild animals around in here."

"Well, if it weren't for little miss tissue stomach over here, we would already be at that Cenarion cesspit in Zangarmarsh by now," Xeledar snapped. He sighed. "Whatever. We can either walk for an hour over to the orc camp, or live in slightly more luxury underneath a tree. What would you want to do?"

"I don't mind sleeping outside," Claryssa said. "I've done it often enough, and I kind of like it."

"It doesn't bother me either way," Shaheen said with a shrug.

Xeledar looked between the two of them with an indecipherable expression. "Whatever," he said after a while, and struck out into the woods. They followed him back against a cliff face, and they started up camp. It was a pretty sparse camp, without bedrolls or a tent, but that was alright with Claryssa. She hadn't had a real blanket in so long, she wrapped herself up in it so she looked like a slug and just laid where she ultimately flopped over.

"You're hopeless," Xeledar muttered. He started up a fire to cook dinner on while Claryssa wiggled obstinately, mostly just to irritate him. The light began to dim a bit as the two of them ate and after a while, decided to settle down to sleep.

"Don't worry, Shaheen said, setting himself up on a nearby rock, "I'll keep watch. You guys get some sleep."

"You sure?" Xeledar said, sitting against his proto drake's side. He had removed most of his armor, and looked kind of skinny in just a shirt and pants.

"It would be just silly to have two people awake at the same time," the ethereal said, waving his hand. "You two relax."

The paladin pursed his lips, but said no more. he settled against his mount and pulled up his blanket. The girl was already out cold; she had probably done more in the past couple of days than she had in months.

Shaheen pulled out some balancing he still had to do. This was the tedious part of finances and the earning of them, and the computations often took hours. He focused on the little numbers and denominations, and didn't even notice that he was completely absorbed by them.

He actually was brought back to reality by the rustling of a bush nearby, he tensed up, holding his pen like a lethal weapon, and glared at the bush. A squirrel jumped out of the bush, squeaked at him, then ran across the clearing. He sighed and looked around the camp. Xeledar was still sleeping against his drake, and the rolled-up lump that was Claryssa was still on the other side of the dying fire. He got up and stoked the fire up, urging more light into the surroundings before returning to his rock and math.

A few more hours passed before he was again roused back into the real world from numbers and algebra by Xeledar sitting up and stretching. The elf was such a noisy waker, all groaning and popping of joints and muttering of curses like an old man. Shaheen rolled up his work and returned it to a side pocket on his pack. Xeledar trudged over to the lump and pushed Claryssa with his foot. He paused. He pushed it again. He then stepped on her with all his weight.

"Xeledar!" Shaheen protested. "What are you doing?"

"She's not in there," he muttered. He kicked the blankets. Sure enough, it was all cloth, no girl.

"What?" The ethereal went over to look. Indeed, she was gone. There were no discernible footprints nearby. "Did she leave?"

"No, her great giant lizard is still right there!" the paladin raged, pointing at the pile of teal scales that was Azbek. "Hey, moron! The one time we need you to actually eat someone's face, and you sleep through it?"

"Come now, it's not his fault," Shaheen said. He reached down and pulled a handful of thin darts from the animal's back. He showed them to Xeledar, who huffed.

"Next time I want to take a guard shift, you let me." He pointed at the ethereal, a scowl on his face. He swung the arm around so he was pointing to the forest beyond the pile of blankets. "Now you go look that way. I am going to put my armor on. And when we find that girl, I am going to make sure we don't lose her. Even if it means tying her by a rope to my testicles."

* * *

"She awake yet?"

"Not yet."

"Get away from her, Makzi. You're making me nervous."

"I ain' gonna do anyt'in' to 'er." It was the noticable lilt of a troll accent that started bringing Claryssa around.

"You said that about the last one. And the one before. And the one before that, too."

"I promised, didn' I?"

"Yes, but you promised those last three times, too."

"Eheheheh."

There was a shuffling sound and Claryssa suddenly found the air around her clearer. She grimaced as her consciousness slowly came back. Her brain was foggy from some drug, and her mouth was thick with a sickening sweet taste.

"Oh! She's wakin' up." Another troll. Great.

"Shush." This voice was definitely not a troll's voice.

"I was jus' sayin'."

"Gettin' nervous?"

"I was jus' sayin'."

"Dis yo' firs' time kidnappin'?"

"Shut up."

"Don' worry, I'll hold yo hand. No need to be afraid, mon."

"Aelin, tell Makzi to shut up."

"I'm not you two's babysitter, Tambek," Aelin said. "Stop sniveling and grow up."

"Eheheheheh."

"And quit that creepy chuckle, Makzi."

"Yessir, main elf guy."

Claryssa tried to open her eyes, and found that half of her face was covered by a thick rough cloth. Her sense of orientation was slowly coming back, and she found that she was sitting up, her hands tied behind her back with a thick, very scratchy rope. Her wrists were already rather chafed from it, which made the itching even worse.

"Hey girl," the voice of Aelin said, suddenly right in front of her. She recoiled with a hissing intake of breath. The elf-if the troll Makzi was correct-chuckled. "Don't worry, you are our guest," he said, and brushed her hair with one of his hands. She shied away, growling. "Now, now. We are being paid a lot of money," his voice grew muffled slightly even with the extra emphasis; she assumed he was turning to someone meaningfully, "to make sure no harm befalls you. So relax."

"You say that, but I doubt you mean it," Claryssa muttered. She was surprised at how raspy her voice was.

"Here, maybe a gesture of good will...?" Claryssa felt hands behind her head fumbling with the blindfold. The blindfold fell away and Claryssa squinted as a dusty ray of light hit her eyes. She dipped her head out of the beam and her eyes adjusted to her surroundings.

She was in a roughshod hut, gaps in the ceiling and walls through which shafts of dust-flecked light shone through. Three people sat in the hut with her. The blood elf in front of her was thin with short-cut black hair in a simple leather outfit. Behind him was a thin and fidgety troll with purplish skin and bright orange hair. To the other side, in a shadowy section of the hut, another troll leered uncomfortably at Claryssa. His skin was more green than blue, and his black hair was draped over his face and shoulders in dreadlocks. The visage of a skull was painted across his face in smudged white and black warpaint. His yellow eyes didn't blink, and didn't leave her's.

"Makzi, quit that," Aelin snapped over his shoulder at the skull-faced troll who grinned in response, but didn't move. It was very unsettling. "Ignore him," the elf muttered, turning back to the girl. "You'll only be here for a couple of days, and have a guard at all times," he growled, turning again to Makzi. The troll's grin grew wicked, but he still didn't say anything. "You're a horrible creature," Aelin spat. "Anyway, our employer will be coming to pick you up soon enough."

"Employer?" Claryssa choked out.

"That's all you need to know," the elf responded, his face flat. He stood up and turned to leave. "Tambek, stay here."

"W-what?" the orange-haired troll protested. "Ya can' leave me in here wit' dat!" He pointed at the other troll, who had shifted his unwavering gaze over to Claryssa's hapless guard.

"I will send someone else in shortly," Aelin said, his frustration evident. "All you have to do is keep his hands off of her for five minutes. Can you handle that, or is it too much?"

"I-yessir," Tambek muttered, fidgeting. He watched the elf leave, and sighed. He tried his best to ignore the other troll in the corner, who was watching his every movement. A few minutes passed, and Makzi said something in zandali, his tone obviously mocking. Tambek continued to ignore him, although it was obvious that it was at a great personal effort. A muscle in his cheek twitched. Mazki said something else, and the other troll's jaw set firmly.

Claryssa regretted not bullying one of her previous trolls into teaching her that abominable language. She seemed to be running into it everywhere, even gods-know-where in Outland.

Makzi threw one last jab, and finally hit a nerve. Tambek spun and growled at the other troll, who laughed. Claryssa was reminded of the first time she had heard Jen'Zin laugh, with the chills that the cold laugh shot down her spine. It was an awful sound, devoid of joy. She suppressed a shudder as the other troll took a few steps toward him, still growling at him in zandali. Makzi chuckled and opened his arms. An invitation.

"Gods damn my luck," Claryssa thought bitterly. She tested her bonds and only succeeded in making the itching worse.

Sure enough, Tambek took a swing at the other troll, who evaded easily. Makzi took a hold of his would-be attackers arm and swung it around and up his back, accompanied by a loud popping sound. The orange-haired troll let out a wail that was quickly stifled by the other one kicking him upside the head, knocking him out. He turned with a leer over to Claryssa.

"Makzi!" A voice said, throwing open the thick blanket that was the entrance to the hut. The sudden influx of light blinded both of the occupants, albeit temporarily. That was just what Claryssa wanted, though; the troll wouldn't be able to see her, and she hoped that the person who just came in wouldn't be able to see inside the gloom of the hut well.

She took a deep breath in more to focus than any need to, and with a hissing noise, her body was enveloped by shadow.

"Shit! She's a shadow priest watch out-!" someone shouted, but it was too late. Claryssa forced herself to disperse, becoming an insubstantial cloud of shadows. Her bonds fell away, and she pushed her vaporous form easily out of one of the nearby holes in the hut. She drifted away from a small collection of buildings and towards the forest. She was only a few feet from them when she regained solid form, and looked behind her. Four men of varying races were chasing after her.

She paused a bit for them to catch up with her, and right before the first one could grab her, huge tendrils of shadow shot up and ensnared her attackers. She bolted again, and ran for a couple of minutes. She slowed down and risked a look behind her to see if anyone had been following her. She relaxed, and breathed a sigh. Maybe it was this easy once in a while. She turned to start running again.

"Goin' somewhere, missy?"

Claryssa had turned to meet two yellow eyes, brightened by the black around them. She tried to spin away and scream, but the troll grabbed her mouth and spun her around and into the ground. She kicked out against him, scoring several good hits in his groin and chest, but he remained undeterred. Makzi actually grinned even more, his eyes going slightly feral. He pinned down both of her hands with his left and pushed his whole weight onto her. He pressed himself heavily against her, letting her know the full extent of his intentions.

"Ya jus' relax, an' it'll be over quick enough, yeah?" he growled, licking up her jaw from her ear to her chin and taking a hold of the front of the raggedy dress she was wearing.

A fire started in her brain at this; she had worked too hard and fought off too many attackers to suddenly lose to this animal. She ripped one of her hands out from his, completely ignoring the pop and flash of pain as her wrist became dislocated. She grabbed the side of the troll's face.

Her shadowform flickered out as she focused every ounce of shadow magic she could into Makzi's body, flooding him with waves of white-hot pain that seared every nerve in his body. He jerked back with a surprised cry, unprepared for the sudden onslaught of agony. Claryssa rolled over and started to pick herself up to run, but the troll grabbed her ankle before it went out of his reach. She tripped, the force of her fall driving her head into the ground with a reverberating crack.

She groaned and tried as hard as she could to keep consciousness, but blackness swirled around her, pulling her down. She felt someone pick her up and struggled weakly against it. She heard a purr and fell into blackness.


	4. The Worster Kind of Attention

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 4: The Worster Kind of Attention

A/N: Oh lawdy, I have put up two chapters at once! Someone call the media, the world is going to end. And yes, "worster" isn't a word. I know.

Now, I ended it on a cliffhanger (again) last chapter, and in a pretty bad tone. The only reason why I did is because I planned to put these two chapters up in rapid succession.

* * *

Xeledar trudged through the sparse forest, trying to find some sign of where the girl had gone. He was getting too old for this, and just wanted to enjoy his time alone. It was complete bullshit how these things always happened to him. Although as he thought about it, he took solace in the fact that it probably was not entirely his fault, as the girl seemed to attract bad luck according to her stories.

It still didn't make him feel any better about it, and he savagely kicked an unoffending rock into a nearby tree. It was all so pointless, and he would have a few choice words for the girl's kidnappers.

He _could_ just leave her, he mused. It was a wonderful idea, just turning around and abandoning the girl to whatever her fate may be. She has survived this long on her own, hasn't she?

That line of thought was brought to a screeching halt, however, as he remembered exactly why he couldn't leave her, and why he had even picked her up in the first place. His conscience was such a damned nuisance. He was always a sucker for sob stories, and any sort of injustice set his brain into automatic mode, and there he was, the hero of the day. It disgusted him, as he knew full well he was being taken advantage of most of the time.

"You're such a terrible blood elf," Xeledar muttered to himself. "Can't just leave some little girl to her fate, noooo. Gotta charge in, sword flashing, cloak waving, and riding atop your noble steed."

He looked around. His "noble steed" seemed to have wandered off. That was fine, though. As much as he adored his proto drake, it was frustrating having the great beast lumbering at his heels all the time. He was probably taking a nap somewhere. The paladin focused back on trying to find some sign of _anything_.

That was proving to be a fruitless endeavor, as Xeledar's tracking skills were pretty much nonexistent. A rut in the ground looked like just that, if he even saw the rut in the first place. He was sure that whoever took Claryssa was a light-footed adept, and would leave a trail that only a skilled tracker could follow. If only he had one of those. At the moment, the only things he had at his disposal were a surly great lizard and an accountant.

It had been three days since the girl was gone, and they had no idea where she was. They were slowly spiraling out from where she had disappeared, which was a methodical albeit incredibly slow approach. Xeledar was just about at his wit's end, and ready to seriously fuck something up if he didn't find out where she had gone to soon.

* * *

Claryssa felt a warm weight on her forehead that beckoned her up from the depths of unconsciousness. She groaned and shifted, and the warmth slid down her head and off. Someone off to her left said something, and it was replaced. She grumbled a little bit, and tried to relax. Curiously, the more she tried to relax, the more uncomfortable she became, and it was a little while before she realized that she was in pain.

The whole right side of her head hurt, and her left wrist throbbed agonizingly. She whimpered and opened her eyes.

She found herself in a canvas tent, light filtering through the fabric and illuminating everything inside. She was laying on a rough mattress filled with straw, on a steady but uncomfortable frame. A woman sat to her left, with brown hair in a loose bun and gray eyes. Claryssa found herself surprised that she was human. Probably because it had been so long since she saw one of her own kind. She stared at the woman for a while, who had removed the damp cloth from the girl's forehead and was gently dabbing at the side of her head with it.

"Where...?" Claryssa muttered, trying to pull her thoughts together. Every time she was about to think coherently, her head pulsed painfully, obliterating all attempts.

"Hush," the woman responded. "You've been out for two days. You hit your head very hard."

The girl whined in response. "How...?" she asked again. She had hit her head, but she couldn't remember how that had happened, nor why she was in a situation where such damage could happen.

"You tried to run," the woman said, her voice matter-of-fact and emotionless. "You were stopped." She paused for a while. "You should count yourself lucky," she said, her voice suddenly soft. "I've had to bury girls bigger than you brought back by that _thing_. For some reason, he didn't touch you."

The last two words echoed through Claryssa's head, as if they should have some meaning. She couldn't think with all that headache going on, though. She brought her right arm up and put her hand against her head. She breathed a sigh of relief as she sent healing magic across the area, and her mind cleared. She obviously had a concussion, and she could feel that there was a good sized cut across the side of her head slowly closing under her touch.

"Don't push yourself, sweetheart," the woman said, sitting back in her chair. There was a bit of relief in her voice, though. She must have been taking care of the girl for the past two days, and was probably happy for the reprieve.

"I'm fine," Claryssa muttered. "Can't think with my head pounding like that." She sighed and let her arm flop down next to her head. Her mind circled around one last time and then started to coalesce into coherent thought. "_That thing, that thing_," whisked through her brain, and she tried to find what it meant.

"Are you well enough to eat?" the woman asked, standing up.

"I think so."

"Then I'll bring in some soup. You should eat something, I am sure that you are very hungry." She turned and left out the flap at the foot of the bed. Claryssa was not particularly hungry, but she figured that it was a combination of her brain not yet up to speed and pain throbbing at various locations of her body that was preventing her from feeling hungry.

She let herself float for a little while, riding on the edge of awareness and sleep. It was a pleasant feeling, as the pain especially in her wrist was not as prominent anymore. How had she hurt her wrist, anyway? She mused on this, her eyes closed. She didn't even realize that someone else had entered the tent until she felt a hand slowly brush her hair.

She half-opened her eyes and glanced over to her right, and was met by a skull with glowing yellow eyes. Her eyes snapped wide open as her memories flooded back, and she went to scream. The troll quickly put his hand over her mouth and pushed her into her pillow. He purred at her and stroked her head with his other hand.

"I ain' gonna hurt ya," Makzi said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not 'nymore, girl. Ya too special to do anyt'in' to, I'll have ya know."

Claryssa stared at him. He was dying to get his hands on her before, what changed? He chuckled, a much warmer sound that what she had previously heard. Strangely, it made it exponentially more creepy.

"I nevah b'fore felt dat kind o' _pain_," he crooned, the emphasis he put on the last word made it sound like some some kind of delicacy. "It woulda made a lessah troll black out, I t'ink."

Claryssa nodded into his hand. That's exactly what she made that little technique for. She had been attacked by a rather persistent naga a year back, and she had done that on an impulse as she was trying to keep him from snapping her head off in his jaws. The naga had almost instantly collapsed from it. She had only used it maybe two other times before this with similar results.

"It was _amazin'_," the troll purred. He rubbed his nose against her cheek lovingly. Claryssa noted that his tusks were arced sharply upwards, parallel with his face; it gave him the disturbing ability to stick his face anywhere he pleased uninhibited. She did not like it. "I couldn' hurt ya aftah dat," he continued, his voice sickeningly sweet. "I _had_ ta feel it again."

"_This troll is completely fucking nuts_," she observed, her eyebrow shooting up. She found herself praying that the lady with the soup would come back soon. She had to admit that she vastly preferred the creepy lurker Makzi to the head-over-heels in love Makzi. The other one she could deal with. Not this one. Why did she always find herself in these situations, and why always trolls?

"Please?" he purred, wrapping his hand around her good one. "Take out yo' pain on me." His voice turned into a growl, his breathing heavy. His nose ventured into the nook where her jaw met her neck. Claryssa felt her panic level rising dramatically.

"_Oh gods, this is worse than before,_" she thought, her inner voice shrill. "_Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop_..."

He then did something that she was completely unprepared for. He started pleading with her in zandali, his voice husky and full of emotion. She didn't even understand what he was saying, but she found herself blushing furiously. Upon realizing the state of her cheeks, she blushed even more. She was completely beside herself with dismay, and completely unable to stop herself from doing it. She realized the only way to make him stop was to put him through agony again, but she didn't want to encourage this horrible behavior. Giving him what he wanted would surely only make it worse.

As if in response to her thoughts, the troll shifted her head. He slowly dragged his tongue along her neck, from collarbone to the tip of her chin, long and hot and sticky. The action sent chills up and down her body, and she acted completely on reflex when she focused every thought in her head to pouring shadow magic into the troll's hand.

Makzi straightened suddenly, his teeth gritted and muscles spasming. He finally let out a cry and ripped his hand from hers, ending the pain. He doubled over the bed, his breath heavy and his limbs trembling. He stayed that way for a few minutes before he looked up at Claryssa, his expression indecipherable. He removed his hand from her face, letting his thumb stray down her cheek. He grinned.

"What is wrong with you?" Claryssa muttered. She didn't really mean to say it out loud, and didn't realize she had until he answered.

"Who knows?" he said with a small chuckle. He bent over and kissed her. It was a surprisingly tender action, his lips pressed firmly against hers but nothing more. He abruptly stood up and left.

Claryssa's mind was blank, save for a vague buzzing sound that was running through her head. Everything that had just happened was _way_ beyond her comprehension, and she found herself stumped by it. Every time she tried to figure out what the hell just happened, the buzzing sound got louder. Perhaps it was her mind refusing to believe that anything that had happened was real, to the point that it didn't even want to _think_ about it. She found that she couldn't blame it; she didn't want to think about it, either.

She couldn't not think about it, though, and she could still feel the troll's lips on her's. It was a horrifying sensation, but at the same time somewhat pleasant, which horrified her even more. She wasn't sure whether to punch herself in the face repeatedly or cry. Maybe she'd do both. The buzzing sound in her head got even worse. The headache was coming back.

After a few minutes, the woman came back into the tent. She paused, taking in Claryssa's bewildered look and the black and white smudges of paint across her cheek and mouth. The girl looked up at the woman with an outraged expression.

"How long does it take to get a fucking bowl of soup?"


	5. Reunion, Part 1

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 5: Reunion, Part 1

A/N: Yep. Chapter five, and OH GOD LONG CHAPTER HGLKDHF. This was originally going to be one giant chapter, but I've hit a wall, so I'm putting this much up.  
Artifex: Yes, I absolutely _adore_ Makzi. I can't describe why, there's just something about him that I like. Again, though, I would never want to be left alone with him in a room. As far as Claryssa's spec, in-game in would be Shadow/Disc. She was Holy in the first story, but she's been on her own defending herself for the past two years, and as everyone knows holy priests are lolbad at soloing. She did a lot in Holy offense which lead her into something more akin to a disc priest, but then she found that holy magic was too flashy and bright and drew attention to her. Her personality has changed quite a bit in that time, and her choice of magic reflects that heavily.  
nopparitari: Chapter three was worst, four was worster. I know they aren't words, I'm just being silly.

* * *

Vilzek drifted over the sparse treetops, his eyes intent on the ground below. Xerethaku shifted his wings and banked softly around a significantly taller tree, and the hunter adjusted his goggles slightly, tuning down the magnification setting. He was very proud of these goggles, and he had spend a good few weeks assembling them from very small components that had taken several months to develop. When he thought about it, he had way too much time on his spare hands, and made too many trinkets and doodads.

Feeling his rider beginning to lose focus on the task, Xerethaku lurched slightly, causing Vilzek to scramble back into his seat. The troll growled at his mount.

"What'ya do dat fer?" he demanded.

"Pay attention, you geriatric troll," the dragon replied.

Vilzek grumbled in response, but turned back to watching for any signs along the ground. A flash of gold caught his eye.

"Wait," he hissed and the nether drake, who sharply halted, hovering in place with strong wingbeats. Vilzek let his breath escape with a hiss. "Yo' great effin' wings all in my vision," he muttered. He felt Xerethaku roll his eyes.

The flash was gone, but it would be remiss of him to ignore it. He hauled himself up out of his saddle, urging his mount to maneuver over a nearby branch. The troll jumped from the saddle and caught the tree, his legs immediately swinging down to support himself on the branch below. He cringed.

"What's wrong now?" his mount hissed.

"Legs are asleep," Vilzek whined. He had been sitting on the drake's back for a good couple of hours. He rubbed his thighs, trying to get feeling in them again as he slowly descended down the tree. He hit the ground and immediately drew his bow. He slowly stalked toward where he had seen the flash, making note of any signs that someone had come through. Indeed, someone had been through just now. Someone well-armored and very irritated. There were long scuff marks where the individual kicked at the ground, and several trees had scuff marks from punches.

He followed the obvious footprints, looking around for anything or anyone. He took a step around a tree and bent to examine a rather tattered bush.

There was a sudden hiss from behind him, and he spun around, pulling back his bow, but wasn't quite fast enough. He was struck in his chest by something far larger than he, and pinned down. Sharp claws dug into his shoulders, and he held both hands in front of his face to keep sharp claws from closing in around his head.

Just as soon as the attack started, it stopped. His attacker froze, then slid off. Vilzek regained his coordination and turned his head. An enormous teal warp stalker was staring at him, splashes of the hunter's blood over its claws and mouth. It was staring at him, a strange purring sound coming from the lizard. The troll sat up, ignoring the scratches and bites all over his arms and looked suspiciously at the enormous lizard. The thing was twice his size, how had he even survived being knocked down by this monstrosity?

The warp stalker moved toward Vilzek and started nuzzling against him, antagonizing the wounds at had inflicted.

"'Ey, get off ya?" the hunter grunted, pushing against the warp stalker. It nuzzled even more aggressively, licking intermittently at his wounds. "Yer hurtin' me, mon. Knock it off." The lizard stopped his urging and suddenly ran off into the brush. The hunter sighed and pulled out a roll of bandages. This was just great, he got randomly attacked by some great bipolar monster. He was getting too old for this.

He was about halfway through wrapping up his wounds when the lizard returned and resumed his fierce nuzzling and purring. The hunter pushed against the warp stalker's nose to no avail. It was starting to do more damage than good with its rubbing and licking.

"Who the hell are you?" someone asked. Vilzek looked up. A blood elf, wearing an old style of armor that paladins were still fond of. He had a long sword pointed at the hunter's face.

"'M lookin' fer someone," the hunter replied. He gave the lizard a stronger push, heaving the great beast off of his lap. "Goddamn it, will ya get offa me?" he snapped. The warp stalker gave him a hurt look and slinked off behind the paladin. Vilzek rolled his eyes.

"Who are you looking for?" the paladin asked, not moving his sword. He did give a dirty look to the warp stalker though.

"A girl. Blond hair, gray eyes. Has a knack for gettin' in trouble."

"What do you want with her?" The elf's eyes narrowed and he lifted the sword slightly. The hunter mentally sighed and went back to finishing his bandaging. The blood had mostly stopped already, but the deep cuts stung in the open air.

"I'm helpin' my friends find 'er. Dey lost 'er on Azeroth in a freak accident." Vilzek shrugged. "Do you know 'er?"

The paladin lowered his sword slightly and eyed him up suspiciously. He obviously knew Claryssa, but was debating on what to tell him. Vilzek was just about at his patience's end with everything that had just happened, and was in no mood for games and verbal fencing.

"Look," the hunter said, his voice flat, "I know Claryssa. I'm here wit' Jen'Zin and 'is brot'ah, and we be lookin' fer her ta bring her back home. It's dat simple. Ya can eithah help us find 'er, as you so obviously know her, or ya can get out of here and keep dat great bloody menace away from me."

"You know...?" The paladin stopped himself. He eyed up the hunter and finally lowered his sword. He brought his other hand up to his mouth, thinking. "Are you...Vilzek, or whatever? The hunter?"

"Yeah," he replied. The troll cocked his head, a wholly ridiculous action. "She tell ya?"

"Yeah. Then if you are he," the elf pointed at him, then looked down at the giant lizard still sulking behind him, "then this brute is yours." He pointed at the warp stalker.

The hunter cocked his head the other way, and heaved himself up. He looked at the warp stalker intently; he didn't remember having a teal one. Then he made note of the stripe pattern, the way the head was shaped...

"Azbek?" he asked incredulously. The lizard perked up and wagged its tail hopefully at him. "Whatchu doin' changin' colors on me? I didn' even recognize ya." He held out his arms and the lizard hissed and tackled him again, this time without all the claw-digging and biting. That didn't keep it from hurting, however. He finally got un-pinned and got up again, but found that it was hard trying to keep one's balance with a giant lizard nuzzling at the back of one's knees. "'Nyways, who're you?"

The paladin sheathed his sword over his shoulder and motioned for the troll to follow. Along the way he explained who he was and how he had come across Claryssa and everything that had happened. He lead the hunter back to the clearing where the girl disappeared and Vilzek scratched his head. The hunter aimed his bow high up and shot a flare up into the sky. He replaced his bow over his shoulder and set to work scanning the area.

Xeledar leaned against a nearby tree. Obviously more were on their way.

* * *

Claryssa sighed as she sat on the edge of the uncomfortable and scratchy bed. It was the day after her most recent encounter with the troll Makzi, and she felt uneasy. She rubbed her left wrist, which she had just finished healing. Being wounded in any way irritated her, and even though she had drifted heavily towards shadow magic, she never gave up on healing. She had even helped travelers in Zangarmarsh every now and then just so she kept up practice.

It was mid-morning, and the glow inside her tent was strangely comforting. The woman, Berilia, had come in and out with food for her several times but for no other reason. There were apparently a pair of guards outside the tent flap, but they were largely unnecessary; there was one individual that the priest could _feel_ lurking around outside that kept her inside.

There was a muttering outside her tent, and the flap flew open. Aelin, the black-haired elf from her first day strode into her tent.

"There has been a delay in the arrival of our employer," he announced without any ceremony. "You'll be here a few more days."

"Okay," Claryssa replied, still softly massaging her wrist. Her apparent lack of interest in what was happening to her had an obvious unsettling effect on the elf. He was obviously used to panic-stricken captives, or ones who tried to fight or bargain for their lives. Claryssa's apathy toward her situation was not something he was expecting. Which is probably what sparked him to be a little bit lenient with her.

"You've been in this tent for a while," he said, an awkward tone to his voice. "Maybe you'd like to go outside? So long as you don't try to run again, the guards won't bother you."

"That's sweet, Aelin," Claryssa replied with a sad little smile, "but I think we both know that it's not the guards that I'm scared of."

The elf scratched his head. "That creature is still lurking around," he growled.

"He seems to be a bother to you," the priest's voice was perplexed. "Why do you keep him around?"

Aelin pulled a face. "To be honest, it is easier to keep him around than to get rid of him. He would react violently if we told him to leave, and he is one of, if not the best fighter in this camp. Everyone's scared of him. It's a wonder that he follows orders, even if only halfway."

There was a sudden crash from the other side of the camp, followed by raucous laughter. Troll laughter. Aelin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Here he goes again. He doesn't throw tantrums like this often, but when he does, he's unstoppable." The elf flinched as another crash reverberated around the camp.

Claryssa sighed. She had a hunch that she could stop the troll, but she knew that she'd just be playing right into what he wanted. She had thought endlessly about _why_ he wanted pain, and she had remembered that there was a couple that lived across from her in Stormwind for a short time who were into a sort of weird relationship. She felt weird parallels that the troll was trying to lay between him and her. She shivered. Another crash.

"Pardon me, I need to try to fix this," Aelin sighed. He turned to leave.

"Wait," Claryssa said. She stood up. "Let me try."

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Aelin started.

Claryssa put on a cheery smile. "Just let me try."

The elf gave her an uncertain look, but waved her over. He put a hand on her shoulder and softly led her from the tent, past the guards.

Her first impression was fright, as she was brought face-to-face with nothing. Not really nothing, but once she looked at the front of her tent, she realized that the entrance to her tent was a mere ten yards from the edge of the world. She ogled the sudden cutaway from land to the Twisting Nether, impressed. She had never been near any of the edges of Outland, and hadn't seen the stark cliff that so completely truncated the land. Her mind was brought back to reality when another crash caught her attention.

A tent on the far side of the small camp on the edge of the Mountains was in in tatters. A few unconscious bodies littered the ground near it. A chair shot up into the air from behind another tent in an almost comical fashion. This was just completely ridiculous. Claryssa massaged her temples. She felt a headache brewing again. She didn't want to give any satisfaction to such a childish creature, but at this point perhaps her own catharsis was all that she should be worried about. She took in a deep breath.

"_Makzi__!_" Her voice rang out across the the camp, crackling with anger. Just this once, she'd take out her frustration on this willing candidate. Maybe then she'd be able to think for once.

The noise stopped, and the troll slowly stuck his head out from around a tent. Claryssa made a sharp gesture for him to stand in front of her. Like a child caught doing something naughty, Makzi slowly slinked across the yard and crouched ingratiatingly in front of her. Gods, it was so irritating.

"Stop acting like such a child," Claryssa growled. She crossed her arms and put on one of her best impressions of her mother's disappointed expression. "You're too old to be acting in such a way, it is demeaning and embarrassing."

Makzi whined under her tongue, trying to give half-assed excuses for his behavior. She continued to berate him, fully aware of the entire camp's eyes upon them. The troll was obviously enjoying himself, and she did have to admit that it yelling at him _did_ make her feel better. She continued for the better part of a quarter hour before she paused. She took a deep breath and put a hand over her face. She ignored the troll as he pawed at her waist and eventually started nuzzling against her thigh. She was starting to regret doing this. Why did she think this would be a good idea?

"Don' forget 'bout me," Makzi whined, tugging on her dress.

"I haven't forgotten about you," she grumbled. "Not without a lack of trying, though."

The troll whined again, a very annoying sound. He normally had a rather deep voice, and she found his whining grating.

"Stop making that sound," she snapped removing her hand to glare at him. He flinched slightly under her look, and grabbed at her hand.

"Yo' gonna punish me?" he asked. There was a definite hopeful tone to his voice that raised all sorts of alarms in Claryssa's head, as well as the hairs on the back of her neck.

"No," she said flatly. The troll whined again. He was doing it on purpose to make her upset.

"_Pleeeeaaaaassee?_" he whined, making his voice as high-pitched and annoying as possible. Even Aelin, who had taken a few steps away, cringed at the pitch the troll was capable of reaching.

More to get the whole situation over with than anything, Claryssa clutched the troll's hand in a surprisingly tight grip and again delivered to him the pain he so desperately sought. She held him and slowly counted out two seconds in her head before releasing his hand. He stumbled backwards and she spun away and retreated back into her tent. She sat down on the edge of her bed and put her head in her hands. She couldn't shake the feeling of dirtiness.

After a few minutes Aelin came back into her tent.

"How the hell did you do that?" he asked, his voice awed. "If you could show me, maybe I could-"

"He's not going to let _you_ do it," the priest responded, her teeth gritted. "He probably won't let anyone else do it, even if you were capable of it. I took him by surprise, so he's attached himself to me."

"Too bad you're already bought and payed for," the elf said, obviously disappointed. "Keeping you around to keep him in line would be a huge asset."

"You just saying that is making me want to jump off of this gods-forsaken rock," she growled.

* * *

This was just too much, Xeledar thought. Slowly, more and more eccentric characters were filtering into the clearing. Vilzek had already pretty much located in which direction the girl had been carried off, and they were just waiting for the group to catch up. First a druid in flight form drifted in and settled himself on the rock that Shaheen had been sitting on. Then, a warlock and his demon, accompanied by a night elf. The night elf, as soon as she saw the old hunter, immediately started to complain to him about the great red wind serpent that was lovingly coiled around her neck, and how if it wasn't one thing of his not being able to stay off of her it was another. The paladin really didn't want to know more.

Luckily, the ethereal returned about that time, curious about the flare. He readily greeted the newcomers, and began interrogating them about the stories he had heard from the girl. As he chatted with them, a silver-haired troll who was obviously Jen'Zin rode in atop his black and white raptor, accompanied by the orc Zalgash on his worg. They immediately dismounted and took their turn interrogating the hunter on what he had found.

"Where's Gat?" Thal said, lounging rather indolently on the back of her nightsaber.

"He's coming," Zalgash said, adjusting a strap on Grel's harness. "This damn piece of leather can never stay put," he muttered, hauling on it.

"It can't be that important, it's just a little strap," the rogue replied, sitting up slightly.

"Yes well, unlike us men, you women don't have your reproductive organs dangling outside of your body to be ground into a pulp against your mount's shoulder blades if your saddle should happen to slip." The irritation in the orc's voice was obvious. This had apparently been the case for quite a while.

"Yeh, he's back dere wit' our _guest_," Jen'Zin said. The particular emphasis he put on "guest" intrigued Xeledar.

"Who's your guest?" the elf said. He still hadn't moved from his tree to watch this parade of absurdity unfold.

"Some death knight we picked up in Shattrath," Zalgash said. He abandoned his saddle for the time being, mostly because his mount had decided to go roll around in the grass. He gave Grel a dirty look.

"Death knight?" Xeledar repeated.

"Yeah. He's practically without a personality," the orc said. "He gives me the creeps, and it takes a _lot_ to creep me out."

"Except fer dat girl last year, yeah?" Jen'Zin said, shooting a grin at the orc, who shuddered.

"There is a natural, _very_ noticeable dimorphism between male and female orcs. It is just plain _wrong_ not to be able to tell if what is hitting on me is male or female." Zalgash crossed his arms.

"Anyways, this death knight?" Xeledar said, trying to pull the conversation away from a tangent he did not want to travel down.

"Ah yes," the orc said, scratching at his head. "He's a blood elf. His name is-"

"Karaellin," Xeledar said, his voice short.

"Yes, how did you know?" Zalgash said, looking at him surprised.

"Because I am right here," a cold voice said from behind them. The death knight sat astride his undead mount, cold fire rising from its hooves and vapor rising from its nostrils even though the animal didn't even breathe. He dismounted and strode across the clearing until he stood in front of the paladin. "Xeledar," he said in way of greeting, giving him a short nod.

"Little brother," Xeledar replied. He stood up straight and put his hands on his waist. "You've gone through some effort to find me. Who wants me to come home this time?"

"Mother has missed you," Karaellin replied, the slightest of twitches at the corner of his lip accompanying the sentence. "She wonders why you never come back to Silvermoon."

"We both know that's utter shit," the paladin said. "Mother hasn't given a damn about me for at least fifty years."

"Satheria is getting married," the death knight said. "She wants you to be there."

There was a long silence at this. Xeledar became acutely aware of the fact that everyone's eyes were on them. Probably because he had referred to his little brother as such. Was it really so hard to believe that death knights still had family members? The last member of the party, the shaman's redheaded brother, had arrived shortly afterward and was the only person ignoring what was happening. He was visibly agitated, even though his back was to the rest of them and was resolutely facing the direction that Claryssa had been taken.

"Well, there are more important things at hand than a wedding," the paladin said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

"Satheria was very insistent upon you being there," Karaellin said stubbornly. That was one quality that the paladin secretly wished the Lich King had beaten out of him. He was even more stubborn in undeath as he was in life, as impossible as that was. He was the most hardheaded person Xeledar had ever known. "She told me that she-"

"I do not care what she has said!" Xeledar shouted. The death knight took a step backward, surprised. A sudden outburst like that was out of character, even for the paladin's relatively volatile personality. Xeledar sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. But there are infinitely more important things going on at the moment than having to attend an ex-girlfriend's wedding. There is a girl out there who was taken out from under my nose, something that I consider a dire insult. I will only go to Sath's wedding after I am certain that girl is safe, and not a moment sooner." He turned sharply on his heel and marched into the center of the clearing.

"Now, I think that this gaiety has gone on quite long enough," he said, his voice crackling with authority that hadn't been in it in years. "We are missing someone who I gather is important to you. Stop being so ridiculous and let's get on with this. We know where she was taken, now let's move."

There was a ringing silence in the clearing for a few seconds in which no one moved. It was Gat who broke the silence.

"Finally," he muttered. The troll moved into the forest, followed shortly by Xeledar, then the others.


	6. Reunion, Part 2

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 6: Reunion, Part 2

A/N: Second part of Claryssa and her friends' reunion. Pre-chapter wall of text:

Artifex: Maybe you should just register so I can answer you via PM so I don't write paragraphs in front of my chapters. :P  
Especially since this is my second time writing this as my Firefox crashed. ; n;  
Firstly, no, the individual who bought Claryssa has no idea who she is, or is interested in finding out. More on that at a later date.  
Secondly, Thal is not going to change a whole lot. She's been the way she is for a very long time, and is very much set in her ways. She is almost violently opposed to being a night elf proper, and acts like a brat a lot of the time. It's deceptive, as she is much older than she lets on. Gat and Jen are not going to make very many personal breakthroughs, as they are both middle-aged trolls at 32 years old. They have, however, been getting a lot of practice in mocking people in the past few years.  
As far as Claryssa's darker personality, Gat will probably love it, although he'll have to get used to it. He's got a bit of a dark streak himself, but he just doesn't have much opportunity to display it, as he's a pretty quiet guy so he doesn't show it most of the time. Jen'Zin will probably be perturbed by it, as he still sees her as the same as she was before she was thrown into Outland. But I'm sure that's just a natural reaction.  
Again, I adore Makzi, but I have been _severely_ downplaying him. He's disgusting, really. He bathes infrequently, and he's not particularly attractive, even by troll standards. He's kind of short and skinny, and he has this really awkward gait. I haven't yet mentioned it, his in-game class/spec would be an assassination rogue. He's really good at poisons and debilitating strikes, especially with his daggers that are designed to go in clean but pull out all sorts of goodies with them. In my mind, it's a really interesting fight, as Makzi is almost a decade younger than Gat, but he's a good deal smaller. But it's been so long since I played the game, and even longer since I played a high-level rogue, I'm kind of panicking here because I've forgotten a lot of the differences.

* * *

It was several hours after Claryssa's interaction with Makzi. She was, for lack of a better word, sulking in her tent. Her mind ran over what had happened until her whole brain felt numb. She finally had just flopped onto her lumpy bed and buried her head underneath the pillow. Her mind was slowly becoming increasingly aware of a strange smell that permeated both the pillow and the bed. It was threatening to soon drive her out from the perceived haven, and she felt no real urge to leave it any time soon.

She couldn't see him, but she knew the troll was lurking around her tent. Partly because she could smell him. Somewhere between a chronic lack of bathing and natural troll smell. At this distance it was tolerable, but then again she shouldn't be getting this much of a whiff of him unless he was standing right next to her. She buried her face into the mattress to try to smell something else, even if it was more repugnant.

It had been silent in the small camp since that morning. It was an oppressive sort of silence that made it even worse, that made her worry even more about what she had done. Thankfully, her brain was already refusing to think about the whole scenario one more time, so all she had to think about was the decision between two different smells to choose from. It was starting to piss her off, really.

The hours crept by slowly. Every so often there would be a shuffling of feet outside of her tent, but no more. Once someone she didn't recognize came in and handed her a bowl of watery soup, but she saw no one else. She figured that everyone was scared of her. Some skinny little girl who got a notoriously sadistic troll to whine and grovel at her feet was obviously a force to be reckoned with. Claryssa found that she didn't really want to be a force to be reckoned with. It was stressful. She found herself quickly overwhelmed, and unwelcome thoughts began to penetrate her mind.

Memories, of everything that had happened over the past few years. Her friend's faces, now cloudy and indistinct in her mind. It hurt that she couldn't even remember what they looked like, what Gat looked like or Jen'Zin.  
She couldn't remember what her parents looked like, either. She couldn't remember that little tune her mother always hummed while making dinner.

Completely overcome she started to cry. She gripped her pillow fiercely, biting back her sobs. It made her angry, which made her cry even more. It had been a while since she had done something like this. In the beginning, being alone save for Azbek, she cried a lot. Now, she didn't even have the big warp stalker to wrap her arms around and make her feel close to something. It was frustrating, really.

Claryssa didn't even notice Makzi slip into her tent until he was pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her. Under normal circumstances, she would violently resist the action. Under these circumstances however, she appreciated it enough to overlook...well, pretty much everything about him. She buried her face in the corner of his neck, where his smell was tolerable. It was a surprisingly sensitive act from him, with his arms wrapped around her just tight enough to be comforting. Maybe if this whole affair was different, and he wasn't _so damn psychotic_, she might just like him. But not that much.

It was a good half hour before she calmed down, and another before she finally pushed the troll away. She rubbed her eyes and refused to look at him.

"Go take a bath or something," she said, sniffing. He didn't move for a few moments, but then got up and turned to leave. Claryssa's conscience got the better of her. "Makzi," she said, and her voice wavered slightly. He paused, halfway into getting off the bed. She cleared her throat and regained her voice. "Thanks," she muttered. He didn't respond at first, and she thought that he was just going to leave. Instead he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her temple before vaulting out of the bed and leaving the tent.

She rubbed where his lips had touched her skin, pulling away smudgy black warpaint. Suddenly, as if she realized for the first time just what had happened, her skin began to crawl. It was an incessant, unpleasant tingling all over her body as her hair stood up on end in waves that emanated from her head. And gods, she could _smell_ him on her!

Claryssa debated on whether or not she could get away with asking for hot water to be brought to the tent so she could bathe. Her mind reminded her that this piece of shit dress was the only clothing she owned and it would need to be washed too, and she would be _damned_ before she would voluntarily undress while that troll was still lurking about. She hoped he really was going to take a bath. She then punched herself rather hard in the head when the unbidden and wholly unwanted image of him bathing entered her head. She did not want to think about that. _At all_.

She groaned and rubbed at her temple with a sheet corner. More smudges. The paint was a foul, matte paste that was oily to the touch and did not smell all that great. He seemed to love foul-smelling things. She was reminded of a dog that one of her old friends used to have in Stormwind that could not resist rolling in every foul thing it came across. That's exactly what Makzi was; a big, skinny, mangy, unclean, and very ugly dog. With a bad personality.

It was all too much. With a sigh, she flopped back onto the bed, her arm over her eyes. She felt exhausted. Without realizing it, she fell asleep.

* * *

The light was starting to fade as Gat crouched behind a tree, his gaze switching between the small camp in front of him and the bird circling high above it. Gelt was volunteered to scout it out. They would have sent Gat, or even more ideally, Thal, but they were worried about either of them stabbing someone for varying reasons. It was probably a smart idea, as his nerves were nearly at their breaking point. He played with the hilt of one of his swords without really being aware of it. He watched the druid slowly circle the camp. He didn't notice Thal sneak up behind him, on his left.

"You need to be doing that about six inches to the left," she muttered, touching his shoulder.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned on her, half ready to pull out the blade he was touching on her until he realized who it was. His hands reached out for her neck, stopping just inches from strangling her through sheer force of will. The elf snickered uncontrollably and lowered his hands.

"Don' fuckin' do dat," he hissed at her. If it weren't for his ponytail, he suspected his hair would be standing on end. An impressive feat, considering his hair was just breaching past his shoulder blades.

"I couldn't help it," she replied in a lofty whisper, trying to bite back her giggling.

"What're ya doin' here? You're supposed to be ovah there."

"Like it _matters_. We both know that we're going to swarm this place so hard and fast that they won't even know they're dead until they're staring at their own corpse."

"Dat makes so little sense," Gat muttered, turning to stare back at Gelt circling.

"Oh, come on. Lighten up." Thal nudged his ribs, earning her a glare that was half-obscured by the eye patch.

"I don' need ta 'lighten up,'" he growled.

"You're so tense lately."

"I t'ink it's justified."

"You worry too much."

"_Someone_ has to."

There was silence for a little bit. Gelt turned and drifted back over the forest. He'd go report to Jen'Zin, who would start off whatever hair-brained scheme he had in mind. He hoped that once in his brother's life he was going with the simple "kill them 'til they're dead" plan. Gat didn't really have much patience for subtlety at the moment.

"She might be in there," Thal said, thumbing the edge of one of her daggers. When he didn't respond, she added, "What are you going to do if she is?"

"I don' know," Gat muttered. Her incessant hounding him about this subject was getting on his nerves. It had been for the past several days. "We'll find out. _I__f_ she's here."

"The touching reunion," she sighed, faking a swoon.

"Jus' shut up or I'll start off da bloodshed by stabbin' you."

* * *

Claryssa woke with a start. She didn't know what the trigger was, but something in her head had screamed at her to wake up. She sat bolt upright in the bed and looked around. There was no one in the tent with her, much to her relief. She was worried for a second that her sudden need to be awake was because a certain someone might have been looking at her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he actually was off taking a bath.

She sat on the edge of the bed, the rough frame digging into her rear uncomfortably through the floppy mattress. She would rather be sleeping on the ground than this thing. She stretched, her shoulder threatening to pop. Maybe if it actually did she'd feel better, but try as she might she couldn't get it to release its tension.

There was an oppressive silence on the camp. She couldn't hear anyone moving, or any chattering. Usually, there were jokes being exchanged, weapons being compared, maybe a light scuffle that was quickly ended. Without any of those sounds, it felt like there was no world beyond the thin canvas of her tent. Somewhere, a bird of prey cried out.

As if in response to that lone cry, there was a sudden surge of life. A few shouts of alarm rang out, and the sounds of metal striking metal and cries of pain and surprise started to build into a crescendo that filled the camp. Claryssa, more morbidly curious than anything, stuck her head out of the tent to see what was going on.

A group of people was working its way through the small camp, methodically hacking its way though the camp's inhabitants. She hadn't realized just how many people lived here before, but now that they were all out en force she could see there was maybe thirty, perhaps even forty people that resided in the ten or so huts and tents that littered the area. There was a sudden hiss from right next to her, and she didn't backpedal quite fast enough. She did, however, get herself positioned so that when Azbek re-materialized and tackled her, she didn't hit her head against the thick wood of the bedframe behind her.

The giant lizard purred and rubbed his scaly nose against her cheek, pinning her down and nearly crushing her ribs. She pushed against him weakly, telling him to get off between what was halfway between a laugh and a sob. Finally he got off and pulled on her dress to get her up, and as soon as she was, he darted from the tent and towards the commotion. She pulled herself up and gave her a moment to catch her breath before she looked out of the tent again.

This time, she could see who the group was. Her heart stopped as she recognized each of her old companions. She ran out from the tent and sprinted across the grass towards them. Jen'Zin noticed her first and waved her over, his arms open. She picked up speed and jumped into his arms with enough force to bowl the shaman over, knocking both of them to the ground. It was almost like a dream, that she had been found by her friends after missing them so much earlier. She sobbed into his shoulder, her arms wrapped almost suffocatingly around his neck. He managed to sit up and peel the priestess' arms from around his trachea before he wrapped his arms around her in a crushing hug.

"We've missed ya," he said, rubbing his nose into her cheek. He then stopped and gave her a weird look.

"What?" she said, wiping at her eyes.

"You smell," he paused, "strange." He had a look on his face that spoke volumes. She still smelled very much like Makzi, which was not at all a pleasant smell.

"I'd rather not talk about it," she muttered, a disgusted look crossing her face. At that point she was lifted from Jen'Zin's lap by Zalgash, who hoisted her over his shoulder to carry her from the battlefield.

"You're a pain the ass to find," the orc said, grinning.

"That's not my fault," Claryssa whined. "I didn't choose to get kidnapp-" She stopped, her ears catching a whizzing sound. She instantly put up a shield of light, almost too late. A small but cruel-looking dirk struck the shield, sticking in it. Cracks spread through the wall for a second before it shattered, the weapon falling to the ground harmlessly. Had she not stopped it, it would have hit the warrior in the spine.

"What the?" Zalgash dropped her and turned.

"Son of a bitch," Claryssa muttered, and stood up.

Standing over by the tent, there was Makzi, a furious look across his painted face. Claryssa folded her arms and stood where she was, making it clear that she wasn't moving.

"Who's this?" Jen'Zin asked, standing slowly.

"An animal," she responded, an edge to her voice.

"Where do ya t'ink yo' goin', girl?" Makzi shouted across the stretch of thirty or so yards that separated them. He took a few steps closer. "Yo' _mine_, I ain' gonna let ya go nowhere."

There were a few weird looks shot Claryssa's way, and she felt her cheeks get hot. She opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off. Gat had stepped in front of her. He wasn't looking at her, and she could see tension and anger in every muscle of his body. He shouted something back to the other troll in zandali, a clear ringing tone. An obvious threat. Jen'Zin scrambled to his feet and out of the way. The others prudently followed. Xeledar darted forward and dragged the girl away from the two trolls.

"You reek," he muttered, pulling on her upper arm.

"I know," she said, her tone frustrated. "Would people stop telling me that?"

They turned their attention on the two trolls, now circling around each other. Gat held his swords firmly, his eyes focused on the other. Makzi lurched along his path, leering at the other. He pulled out his daggers and spun them playfully in his hands. They were cruel-looking objects, all backwards-pointing hooks and deeply serrated blades. There was an oily sheen to them; they were undoubtedly coated in some foul poison. He made a few verbal jabs at Gat, probably involving her in some way. The other didn't respond.

There was a momentary lull. The two stopped their circling and gripped their weapons, waiting for the right time to move. A few muscle adjustments as they sized each other up. Almost theatrically, a light breeze blew across the battlefield.

Claryssa almost didn't see them charge at each other. There was a swift chain of metal striking metal. Makzi made a swift side- and cross-step and drove one of his serrated blades at Gat's lower back. Gat spun, forsaking his blade edge and connecting a strong uppercut to the smaller troll's jaw. Makzi reeled, and didn't quite dodge a savage slash from his opponent. A deep gash into his left shoulder oozed dark red down his skin. He grinned and charged back towards Gat, spun low underneath a swing and threw his own swing toward his midriff. Gat backpedaled, but not fast enough; the smooth, sharp point of the dagger sliced through his leather vest and lightly scratched his skin.

This continued for several minutes. They would cut away from each other for a few seconds before laying into one another again. Gat scored several deep gashes into the smaller troll, but he seemed to be the worse for wear. Makzi's few small cuts were starting to seem a lot more threatening as the poison his weapons were coated in were taking effect. He was panting, his eyes hazy, and backed up against the edge of the world. Makzi cackled unpleasantly.

"Doesn't Gat poison his weapons too?" Gelt whispered, fidgeting.

"It's not'ing compared to someone who knows poisons," Jen'Zin muttered, intently watching the fight. Claryssa could tell he wanted to interfere, to torch the smaller troll. "Dat little asshole has prob'ly nicked 'imself so often dat anyt'ing less is jus' a passin' inconvenience."

Again, Makzi shouted a taunt. This time, Jen'Zin's face went pale and he pulled Claryssa over to him protectively. She decided that it may be best that no one ever taught her that language. She got the distinct feeling that she didn't want to know what he said.

Gat did not move, however. He stood where he was, panting. He reversed his swords so they were pointing backwards and shouted back at his opponent. Makzi laughed again and charged. It was what Gat had been waiting for; he dropped down and drove his weapons into the ground. He planted both feet on Makzi's abdomen and shifted his momentum so that he sailed over the rogue and edge of Outland itself. With a final thrust, the troll fell down into the Twisting Nether, a howl of rage accompanying him.

Gat pulled on his swords, keeping himself from going over with him. He flopped back onto the grass, his eyes closed.

There was a small pause before the few occupants of the camp that weren't dead or unconscious fled. The group as one rushed over to Gat, to tend to him. Except Claryssa. She stood where she had been, staring at where Makzi had disappeared behind the edge of the cliff. She didn't feel any sort of sadness about it, but she found it hard to look away. She finally wrenched her vision from that point and turned around. She looked down at the ground only to make eye contact with Aelin, laying sprawled in an awkward position. He was very dead. Without the green glow coming from his eyes, they were an icy, almost captivating blue. She sighed.

She shouldn't feel terrible about it. She hadn't even had much interaction with the elf, and he was probably a complete scoundrel. Yet, she found herself feeling kind of miserable. Maybe it was just because she had been crying so much that day, but she felt tears stinging at her eyes. There was no reason for them to be there, but they wouldn't stop. Maybe it was because she remembered being with her friends, and she was reminded that death should bother her.

She bent down and pulled the elf into a more dignified position, ignoring the blood that got on her hands. She closed his and wiped her own with her wrist, and sighed again. It didn't really make her feel any better. Her mind seemed almost to buzz again, as if it didn't know what to do. All her friends that she had spent so long wandering around with were twenty yards behind her, but she felt hesitant to rejoin them. She had been on her own for so long, the group seemed large, and she found herself worrying. Almost afraid. She thought about turning and the idea made her skin crawl. The only thing that crossed her mind was to flee into the forest, run back to her little hole.

Almost in response to her urge to run, two arms wrapped around her and pulled her backwards. She jumped, but then quickly relaxed when she realized that it was Gat, recovered from his fight, sat behind her and pulled her into his lap in one motion. She shivered slightly, and he tightened his grip around her. It was a strange experience, and his demeanor was not something she was used to. It wasn't a comforting embrace at all. Quite the contrary, it was a fierce and possessive action, and he completely ignored her small squirms to try to get more comfortable.

He didn't talk for a while, and she could almost feel a growl in his chest. The others prudently gave the two of them space, and rooted through the buildings to find anything of interest. After a while, he broke the silence.

"You smell like _him_," he said, an edge to his voice.

"Not by choice," she muttered. "He didn't do anything, just harassed me." He seemed to be satisfied with that answer, and she felt him relax slightly. She wiggled into a slightly more comfortable position, and his arms tightened around her again. It was a weird feeling, being in his lap again. It was almost like the past few years hadn't happened, and that it was all just a really long, really terrible dream. But even being around him was almost dream-like, surreal. Almost like she wasn't really there, and it wasn't happening.

"Gat, we're headin' out," Jen'Zin called.

* * *

It was a few hours later, and Claryssa was again sitting in Gat's lap. She had been given a new dress to wear, much to her relief. Until she discovered that the rogue had sacrificed an old shirt of his to the cause that his brother had pieced together into a suitable garment. She couldn't complain that much, as her old dress was threadbare and tattered, and reeked of unwashed troll.

As she thought about it, the last reason was probably Gat's motive for giving her an old shirt of his, so that she didn't smell like another troll. The idea was puzzling. Trolls sure are weird.

Her theory was supported by him being a lot more receptive towards her, and not quite as possessive. She wasn't sure how she felt about the whole thing. It made her feel like he wouldn't be happy unless he felt that she _belonged_ to him, and that idea kind of made her irritated. She didn't belong to anyone, nor did she really want to. Maybe she'd bring it up at a later date.

The rest of the group was talking excitedly, filling her in on everything that had happened in their own disjointed, rambling way, full of in-fighting and snide comments to each other. She wasn't really paying attention, and was nodding at intervals and saying "oh really?" at strategic points to make it seem like she was engaged. She looked around at their faces, a few new lines here and there, slightly different haircuts, but all pretty much the same.

It made her feel kind of like an outsider at a family reunion.


	7. Readjusting

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 7: Readjusting

A/N: Yup.  
Artifex: I didn't mean don't ask the questions, I enjoy answering them. I just feel uneasy about putting paragraphs in front of my chapters anymore. I would put them after, but a lot of the answers help understand characters easier instead of saying "Oh, that's why s/he did that" after the fact. I guess you could track me down on dA as H-43. Don't mind the awful art. I'd be happy to answer any and all questions you have.  
I have been playing SOOOO MUCH WC3. Even though I am about as bad at RTS games as I am at FPS games. So I'm a little bit burnt out at the moment. I just started the Night Elf campaign in Reign of Chaos and it's only day three.

* * *

The group had cleared out of Blade's Edge Mountains as soon as possible. There was kind of an awkward murmur in the group, as everyone wanted to hear about Claryssa's past few years, but didn't really know how to. Save for Vilzek, who was gliding lazily overhead, all of them were trudging along the slightly overgrown road through Zangarmarsh mounted atop their mounts. Claryssa once again was seating in between Gat's legs atop Razuli. The rogue was being awfully possessive about her, and she was having to work very hard to swallow her irritation. She knew the troll had missed her, and she had missed him as well, but it was a matter of too much, too fast.

Almost as annoying was Issa. She completely refused to heed any of her rider's commands and threats, and was instead walking alongside Razuli, nuzzling lovingly at Claryssa. The black raptor's proximity and positioning in his blind spot made the red raptor nervous, and he often twitched and jerked uncomfortably away from Issa. That only served to augment the priestess' frustration, and she often pushed her away with mutterings of "Listen to Jen, Issa" and "You're making Razuli nervous, you can rub on me later." It didn't work, though.

Some distance up ahead, Xeledar and his brother were talking. The paladin had summoned up a glowing charger, clad in gold armor and red draping. It was a rather interesting counterpart to Karaellin's undead steed, with greasy-looking black saronite and tattered, dusky blue. She meant to ask either one of them about themselves, but she hadn't yet gotten the chance, nor did she think she would get one. It was pretty clear that Gat was not keen on letting her go anywhere without being attached to him, and wouldn't be for a while.

Thal was leaning lazily against her nightsaber as it prowled along behind them. Vilzek's blood red wind serpent was still coiled lazily about her shoulders, napping. The hunter found it perplexing that his pets kept getting attached to other people, and had voiced his reservations on the whole affair at length that morning. In the end, though, it came down to there being something personal between the old troll and the elf, causing her to smell like him. And the serpent didn't like being at high altitude.

It was a weird couple, to be sure. She guessed it wasn't her business but it was interesting, in kind of an awkward way. Then again, it was a very incongruous couple, a lithe night elf and an aging troll. Images started running through her head and she rather violently shook her head to stop thinking about it. Gat gave her an inquisitive look, but she shrugged and gave an excuse of a bug in her face.

Bhazrael was keeping to himself at the rear of the train, his great purple wings a lot less noticeable in the gloom of Zangarmarsh. He hadn't been pushy or awkward around Claryssa, and he was the only one of the group who seemed to understand that she wasn't the same girl as before. She was grateful to him for that, and maybe she could talk to him without worry that he would be judgmental or shocked at her. Maybe later, after she could worm away from her overbearing troll-leech.

Zalgash was currently in the front. He had tried to engage the girl in conversation earlier, but she was somewhat distracted by both Gat and Issa pawing and nuzzling at her incessantly. She would have to apologize later to the orc for being short with him. The only one she hadn't talked to recently was Gelt, who had joined Vilzek in flying in his bird form above the trees. She remembered how irritable he was riding on a kodo through their escapades around the world, and couldn't blame him for wanting to fly on his own instead.

She kind of wished she could, too. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her want to flee, find a little sanctuary somewhere and hide in it. It didn't help that they were going through the part of Zangarmarsh that she was most familiar with. She was playing with the idea of running off for a while. The only problem was Gat.

"I have to pee," she suddenly announced. The troll grunted and turned to the side of the road. Razuli happily obliged, putting much needed distance between himself and Issa.

"We'll catch up in a few minutes," the rogue said, waving his brother forward when Jen'Zin started to slow down. The shaman nodded and kicked a reluctant Issa forward. The raptor hissed malevolently at her rider, but obeyed.

Claryssa slid off of the saddle and ducked behind a giant mushroom. Gat prudently looked the other way. She didn't need to use the bathroom, though. Instead, she slipped into shadowform slowly, the hiss low and drawn out, like a gust of wind more than anything. It blended in easier with the muted colors of the marsh. She took a deep breath and let herself disperse. She drifted away from the mushroom and became reconstituted fifty or so yards away and took off at a run toward a little haven she had for herself.

It only took a few minutes to reach it. It was just a little rotted hole halfway up a mushroom overlooking the giant lake in the center of the marsh, but it was a nice little haven. No one payed any attention to it, and she had often sought refuge in there when overrun by naga or being tracked down by people curious about the "witch of Zangarmarsh."

The priestess clambered up the stalk and pulled herself into the hole. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed as she looked out across the lake, the pipes of the Steamvaults visible in the distance. Her inner turmoil was starting to settle down, and her stomach started to unclench. There was a small spark of guilt at running away, but it was all she could do from doing something she'd feel even worse about later. She let her shadowform drop and relaxed against the hardened interior of her little cubby.

It was twenty minutes before someone found her. Not surprisingly, it was Vilzek. The old hunter popped his head up into her cubby. He lifted himself into a somewhat more comfortable position.

"That took longer than I thought it would," Claryssa said.

"Took me a bit ta convince Azbek ta show me where ya were," he replied. "Can ya scoot ovah or somet'in'? Lemme in. 'S hard ta stay steady out here."

Claryssa scooted around and the troll clambered into the hole. His thin frame fit in with her surprising well.

"Not going to carry me back?"

"Not yet. Had us worried fer a while, thought somet'in' happened to ya."

"Sorry. I just-"

"'S alright," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Gat was havin' a fit, t'ough."

"Really?"

"Yeh. Was feelin' awful 'cause ya jus' up an' vanished undah his nose."

They sat in silence for a bit. Claryssa could hear Azbek rooting around the ground for buried tubers and other things to eat. There was a weird feeling that she couldn't quite place. After a while, she realized the hunter kind of exuded this rather intimidating aura. She hadn't seen much more than a few minutes of him previously and all she had fleeting memories of him from a distance. Now that she was touching shoulders with him, she realized that he was every inch just as lean and muscled as his younger counterparts. With more experience.

Thal's interest in him suddenly became a lot less of a mystery.

"He's just being kind of..." Claryssa tried to break the silence, but found she couldn't find a non-insulting adjective. She struggled to reach for one.

"Possessive?" Vilzek said with a chuckle. "Yeh. I don' blame ya fer runnin' off. I figured dat's whatchu did, but didn' wanna say anyt'ing."

She suddenly felt like a massive weight was taken from her chest. She was feeling a little guilty but when she realized that she wasn't the only one who felt so, she left better. She let her head flop against the troll's bicep with a sigh. He patted her head.

They sat around for another ten or so minutes. It was easy company, as their wasn't an awkward silence as neither party felt the need to speak.

They were interrupted by another head poking itself over the lip of the hole. Rather surprisingly, it was Bhazrael.

"You guys have been up here long enough," he said, his tone short.

"How'd ya find us?" Vilzek asked, cocking his head.

"I followed you, how else?" he said. "Or, more appropriately, my succubus followed you. It's been a half hour already. Let's get going."

"Aw, c'mon elf guy," Vilzek said. "She's stressed."

"Yeah, and Gat is flipping his shit. Come back and tell _him_ that he's slobbering on you too much, don't make us go through hell while you hide in a hole." With that said, the warlock dropped out of sight. His footsteps faded away quickly.

Vilzek sighed and opened his mouth.

"He's right," Claryssa said for him. The troll cocked his head again, his eyes unreadable behind his goggles. "I know it was stupid and selfish. I should go talk to him about it, but I couldn't say anything without it sounding mean."

"Trolls are harder to hurt dan dat." Vilzek grinned encouragingly.

"Well, I'm just," she stopped again. "A lot has happened, especially in the past few days. It's given me a bit of a fear of trolls."

"Yer talkin' to me jus' fine t'ough," he pointed out. She waved him off.

"It's different. I don't know, it's just different."

"Scared of," he paused looking for a decent question, "conflict wit' one of us maybe?"

She thought about it. "Maybe. That troll that Gat killed had an...interest in me, to put it lightly."

"Yeh, got dat." Vilzek's cheek twitched. "He said he was gonna...do some rather unsav'ry t'ings to ya."

"I figured. I'm...I don't know." She sighed.

"Jus' talk to him," Vilzek said. "We aren' dat hard ta hurt. Jus' don' get scared of him, we're all here fer ya. Shall we?" He wormed his way out of the hole and down the stem. She followed suit.

It only took a few minutes to reunite with the others. They had all backtracked and were gathered around where she had run off. Gat instantly started to fret over her and hug her. Claryssa felt her stomach start to clench up again and her frustration spiked. Every time she tried to cut him off, there were questions about where she went, why she went, what happened.

"Gat!" she finally screamed, shoving the troll but not succeeding in pushing him away. He did take a step backwards though and gave her a weird look. She sighed and shook her head and lowered her voice. "Stop, okay? I'm just as happy as you to see you again, and everyone else, but..." she faltered.

"Just what?" he said, an edge to his voice. She felt her heart drop momentarily before it rose again angrily. She opened her mouth to retort and Vilzek rather loudly cleared his throat. She closed her mouth and took a deep breath.

"I want you to back off a little bit," she said, trying to make her voice not quaver. It didn't help that everyone was focusing on her. "I've been on my own for two years out here, and it's a bit much to have you attached to me nonstop. It's more than I can handle right now."

"So," he said, his face unreadable but his eyes scrutinizing her, "ya want me to...?"

"Just back off a little bit," she said. "I don't mind contact or anything, just not so much right off the bat. Please."

The troll chewed his tongue a bit and looked at her. After a momentary pause, he leaned forward and maneuvered a kiss on her forehead.

"Tell me next time ya got an issue, yeah?"

It felt like an anticlimactic finish to the whole ordeal. She was just kind of stunned for a second as the troll turned and started getting ready to leave again. She had expected some kind of altercation, or him to be upset, but then she reminded himself that he had probably grown past all that, and that her ideas on how she might react in his position were completely and utterly irrelevant in this and probably every future situation concerning him.

Xeledar approached her. "That was brave of you," he said. With his breaking of the silence, the others started heading to getting everything picked up to leave. "You can ride on my charger, if it would make you feel better. I have that big lug." He motioned toward his proto-drake, who had been shuffling along behind them while the paladin was riding along with his brother.

"Thanks," she said, still disoriented from her revelation. "I appreciate it. Just please tell me that your horse doesn't have some quirky personality flaw that inhibits him from operating properly."

As if on cue, Issa threw a fit that sent Jen'Zin reeling away from her with a deep scratch in his left arm. He chased after her, shouting feverishly in his native language. Xeledar pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, he doesn't. He's a nice, calm horse with good sensibilities." He paused for a second. "Well he does, but I don't think you'll be riding him into a battle."

* * *

The man stepped into the clearing and looked at the carnage all around. His black eyebrow twitched slightly over amber eyes. That was the only outward display of anger he would allow himself. He weaved slowly between the bodies and broken beams of huts and tents.

He should have known better than to let himself become distracted and trust these degenerates and bandits to be able to hold on to his merchandise. It was bad enough that it had gotten away in Shadowmoon. Of course these dregs of society would not be able to hold their own.

Yet this destruction was too much for one individual. He may have to take his property from a group. How irritating.

He turned sharply, his black cloak swirling behind him. This would need to be rectified. Thankfully, the group had left an impressive trail.

This would be easy.


	8. The Worstest Kind of Attention

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 8: The Worstest Kind of Attention  
Alternate title: The Best Kind of Attention

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!  
Tack on an infinite number of "sorry"s on there for extra measure, too.  
Since quitting WoW, my inspiration for this story is at an all-time low (practically nonexistent, actually). For that fact, I will be ending this story abruptly. NO, NOT THIS CHAPTER, DON'T WORRY. Including this chapter, there will be three to four more before it's over. I know how I want it to go, I know approximately what each chapter will consist of, so it's just a matter of writing it. I have made this decision because it is MASSIVELY unfair to all of you who WANT to read the next part to deny it to you for months on end. For that, I am incredibly sorry and wish I could make it up to you in a better manner.  
All of this just came to me the other night, and I thought it was a fantastic way to wrap it all up and end it. I was going to make it longer, but I can't justify making this thing as long as the previous one because Outland is just so small.

And no, he's not dead. Yet.

* * *

The party stopped for rest on the outskirts of Terokkar. While the others set up camp, Claryssa returned Xeledar his horse with a mumbled thanks and retreated to a secluded area some distance away from the others, after prudently telling someone where she was going. After the debacle earlier in the day, she figured it was a good idea.

She was tired, definitely, and she was starting to feel stressed from just being around the others. Maybe some time to herself would make her feel better. She sat among the roots of a large tree, nestling in a cranny comfortably. She set her head against the bark and sighed. She stretched her legs out in front of her with a groan and popping of various joints. She had forgotten how uncomfortable riding was.

She couldn't really hear her companions from around the far side of the tree, even though they weren't really that far away, which was weird because they were yelling at each other over whose turn it was to do what and why someone was better at doing their chore for the night than whoever was supposed to do it. It was nostalgic, and as much as Claryssa wanted to dive right back into it, there was some part of her that was scared to for some reason. What was she scared of? She mused on this thought for a while, her eyes closed.

It started as a vague uneasy feeling. _Gods_ she had felt this way before, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Then she smelled it. A smell of old sweat and unwashed leather and various other unsavory and unpalatable things. She opened her eyes. _He was right there_.

Makzi, again, pressing his hand to her mouth to keep her from screaming. His matted and snarled dreadlocks were everywhere, and his warpaint was mostly rubbed or washed off; remnants of muddy white and gray were still along his hairline and the creases of his face. He was bedraggled and damp, as if he had trudged through every swamp in Zangarmarsh. There was a weird look in his eyes. A look that was almost..._sane._

Claryssa didn't even attempt to scream, it would be utterly pointless. The shock of his presence wore off quickly, and she found herself getting angry more than anything. However, that weird look he had, as if he was actually capable of rational thought, mollified her somewhat.

"Don' scream," he pleaded. There was an almost panicked note in his voice. "Please, please, jus' listen to me."

She nodded her head and the troll removed his hand. She noticed that it was scratched and raw. His whole arms were bruised and torn. He gave a sarcastic grin and tilt of his head when he saw her looking at his wounds.

"I fell ovah de edge, yeah?" he said, his voice low. "I fell...I don' know how long. I finally was able ta catch myself...prolly broke a few t'ings." He held up his other hand. His third finger was bent out of alignment. The skin was torn away in places. Without thinking, Claryssa immediately went to healing up the worst of his wounds. She realized what she was doing halfway through but went ahead and finished anyway. The troll sat back with an almost self-loathing look on his face until she was finished. "You're so sweet," he said after a while, moving his arms around a little. "I climbed back up de cliff, t'ought I had died sev'ral times an' dis was my private Hell, climbin' fer eternity. When I reached da top, I act'lly cried." He got quiet again, and rubbed his hands for a few minutes.

"What do you want?" Claryssa asked. "What else do you want? You want an ass-kicking again, or-"

The troll suddenly let out a sharp laugh. "Were ya watchin' da same fight, girlie?" he snarled, his manic grin back in place. "Anot'ah five minutes and yo boyfriend woulda been dead." The hostility slid off of his face and he sighed. "I'm tryin' real hard ta talk to ya, please don' make this more difficult. I've been terrible. I've done shit an' no one deserved it. You least of all. But I won' stop. I can' stop. 'M havin' a lucid moment here, but it won' last. I'll get angry at m'self fer bein' weak an' go right back to ev'ryt'in' I've been doin'."

"So what do you want from me?"

He took her hands and put them on either side of his head. "I want'cha to kill me."

Claryssa blinked. Her anger subsided to confusion then sparked up again before being overrun with curiosity and then suspicion. "Why?" she asked slowly, the word drawn out.

"I can' do it m'self," he said. "An' dere's no one else dat I'll submit to like dis. Dere's been ot'ers dat I wouldn' have minded if I lost to, but ain' no one beat me in a fight. Dat's why I'm still here, I've won ev'ry fight I've ever been in. But you, ya be different."

"Why am I so different?" This was making her more suspicious. What was he trying to do? He was obviously trying to fuck with her somehow. He let out an irritated growl and rolled his head back. He muttered to himself in zandali.

"I ain' fuckin' wit'cha, Claryssa," he said, looking her dead in the eyes. His yellow eyes were sharp and clear, but desperate. He relaxed slightly and sighed. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again they had a slightly more familiar gleam in them. "It's 'cause yo' a rare bird, girlie. I could tell from de instant I saw ya, yer way diff'rent den most. I can smell it on ya," he leaned in so the bridge of his nose was touching her jaw. "Yer one o' dose people who _always_ forgive, no mattah what."

Claryssa found herself almost dumbfounded by what he said. Always forgive? That's ridiculous. But...

"Don' believe me?" Makzi almost purred. "When was da last time ya held a grudge? Da last time ya really _hated_ someone? I don' even t'ink yo' capable of hatin' anyone." He ran a thumb down her cheek and across her lips. "Even now, ya don' even hate me. I don' t'ink you can, ever."

Almost as if he was proving his point, he pulled himself closer to her. He wedged his battered knees under her's, and pulled her so that her knees hooked over his thin hips. He nuzzled into her cheek.

"I bet I can' do whatevah I want to ya, an' you'll always forgive me," he purred, and ran a hand up her thigh. "Ya won' evah submit, but ya won' hate me. It just ain' in yo nature. An' for _dat_ reason, I can give myself to ya like dis, I can happily ask ya to kill me wit'out a fight."

Claryssa's skin crawled and her mind shrieked in protest at his touch, but _damn_ him! He was completely right, she wasn't feeling any hatred toward him at all, all rage that she felt was currently directed toward herself, for being weak and not fighting him off, for actually letting him talk to her, for things completely unrelated to the current situation. Her lack of an obvious external reaction seemed to enrage the rogue.

"What do I gotta say to get ya pissed off?" he snarled, the tips of their noses touching. "What do I gotta do? I love ya more den I have anyone else in a long time, an' fer dat reason, ya ain' nevah gonna be rid o' me. I'll tear apart ev'ryone else ya love, an' you ain' nevah gonna hate me for it. Yo' boyfriend? Dead. All yo' friends? Dead. Family? Dead too! I'll have ya all to m'self, an' yo' gonna t'row away yo' one chance ta be rid of me! Ya really are incapable of hatin' someone, aren't ya?" He leaned in and gave her a fierce kiss.

The action seemed to snap her brain out of its frantic circles. She suddenly realized everything that he had said and that he was definitely going to do it, it was just up to her whether or not to allow him to do all of it. She noticed her hands were still on either side of his head, and somehow that fact made her vision go completely black as something inside of her snapped. Shadow magic coursed through her hands and into the troll's body, a scream of rage mingling strangely with Makzi's screams of pain. She wasn't quite sure how long she held him there, screaming into blackness, but something else inside of her told her to stop, and she did. Her vision cleared.

Makzi was quite obviously dead. His eyes were rolled into the back of his skull, the whites pure red. Tears of blood coursed down his cheeks, joined by rivers of blood from his nose. She let his head go and he collapsed backwards limply. Her hands were coated his blood from his ears. She stared at her hands then at the troll's limp body, her legs still wrapped about his waist. She felt someone shake her and looked up. Everyone was standing to one side, staring in disbelief at the dead troll and with a mixture of concern and fear at the girl. Thal had been the first to work up the courage to touch her.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Did he hurt you at all?"

The priest opened her mouth. She closed it again and looked back at the dead troll. She looked back at Thal, and inexplicably, she started to cry. It was slow and soft and first, but it quickly escalated into full-scale bawling. She howled pathetically, her whole body shaking uncontrollably with each breath. Tears poured down her cheeks unchecked.

Gat untangled her from Makzi's body and lifted her gingerly. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, completely ignoring the smears of blood she left over his skin and hair. She buried her face into his neck, and didn't notice they had returned to the campsite and were sitting around awkwardly, all watching her cry. When she finally did notice it, she had been crying for nearly a whole hour. She slowly relaxed and stopped crying. She started hiccuping.

After a while, Bhazrael broke the silence. "How did he even survive being thrown off the damn world?" he muttered. Somehow, his irritated tone made Claryssa giggle.

"He-hic-caught the cliff as he was fall-hic-ing," she said, still half-buried in Gat's neck. "He climbed up and fo-hic-llowed us."

"Are ya okay, Clar?" Jen'Zin asked, leaning toward her. She nodded, but then a second later she shook her head. "What did he do to ya?" the shaman demanded, his voice getting angry.

"He didn't-hic-didn't do anything," she said quickly. "He...he wanted me to-hic-kill him."

"That's," Thal said, her confusion obvious, "strange of him. He didn't strike me as particularly suicidal."

"I don't thi-hic-ink he was," Claryssa muttered. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear them out of tears. "He said he wanted me-hic-to, but that I was the only one he would le-hic-t do it without a fight."

"You people are weird," Xeledar muttered, chewing at a piece of bread, "and attract more weirdos by the second."

"Does dat make you a weirdo, too?" Vilzek said, a half-grin on his face. The paladin didn't answer.

"There's got to be more to it than just that," Thal said. "You pumped so much magic into him that he was letting out black sparks before you stopped."

"He...," she hesitated and hiccuped a few times. "He said that I am incapable of hate. That I forgive everyone regardless of what that person has done. Like...," she hiccuped again, "he was mocking me or something. I don't-hic-don't know, he can't have been serious."

They were quiet for a while, until Gelt spoke up.

"I am sure he was being serious," he said, his tone thoughtful, "and I don't think that is a bad trait to have."

Everyone looked at him incredulously. He threw his hands up defensively. "Yeah, yeah, agreeing with the insane rapist-murderer is a terrible, terrible sin. Think about it, though." He lowered his hands and his tone became more serious. "Everyone hates each other, for reasons they don't even really understand. Then there's Claryssa, the aberration. This one weird little creature who loves everyone she comes into contact with, almost unconditionally.

"Jen, think about it, what would have happened that day in Elwynn had you run into any one OTHER than her?"

The shaman thought about that for a second. "I," he hesitated, "I prob'ly woulda gotten' outta dere as fast as I could. Anyone else woulda reported my presence, an' I woulda had guards an' would-be heroes on my tail fastah den...well, fastah den anyt'in' I can t'ink of." He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully at his sudden lack of eloquence. "But I sure wouldn've been in Stormwind at all, an' wouldn've had her beggin' me ta take 'er wit' me."

"And really, what normal human-or really, any normal member of the Alliance-would have wanted to go with you?" the tauren said. Jen'Zin shrugged.

"None."

"And Gat, do you _really_ think that any normal human girl would accept you?"

That idea obviously made the rogue uncomfortable, and his arms tightened around Claryssa possessively. Gelt took that as an answer to his question. "Really, none of us would be here at all if it weren't for you being the way you are, Claryssa. Not having any hate isn't bad. Sure, it has its downfalls, but on the whole, it's not bad." He shrugged. "I'm happy that you're like that. I've thoroughly enjoyed myself on all of these inane escapades."

Claryssa felt herself tearing up again, but for an entirely different reason. Gelt's little speech made her ridiculously happy, and the wave of consent that rippled through the group (sans Xeledar and Karaellin) filled her with a sudden, overpowering joy. She started crying again, her eyes erupting into a new cascade of tears. She renewed her grip on Gat's neck.

"I guess this is a group hug moment," Thal said with a shrug and leaned over to throw her arms around Gat and Claryssa. Much to Bhazrael's chagrin, he was swept up in the sudden convergence and caught in the center of a giant mass of bodies and arms. He made his displeasure known in a loud voice, but was more or less ignored. He stopped his bitching after a while, but still grumbled a bit. He didn't have to wait long as the hug broke up in five minutes or so, but it took another half hour for Claryssa calmed down again. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

"And I had just sto-hic-opped hiccuping, too," she muttered. Gat grinned and hugged her.

"Feel better?" he asked, pushing her tear-wet hair out of her face.

"Yeah," she said. Her eyes hurt from crying so much, and her nose was stuffy. She sighed. "I think I'm done-hic-done with shadow magic, though," she said. "I don't want to cause that kind of pain in anyone ever again."

The troll maneuvered a kiss onto her forehead and passed her off to his brother to get started on dinner.

Jen'Zin snuggled her immediately, rubbing his cheek against her temple. His tusk ground painfully against her orbital bone. She fended him off and sought refuge in his shoulder. He laughed and kept her there until dinnertime. She didn't complain, really. It was nice, and she could tell that he missed having her around. She admittedly missed being around him, he was like a great big brother or something, and she had missed him just as much as she had missed Gat.

Dinner was of a simple but tasty stew, and they laughed and joked at one another until they were tired and drifting off to sleep or watch. Gat and Claryssa were finally the last ones sitting in front of the fire. The events of the day were circling around the back of the priest's mind, feeling more remorse than anything for putting Makzi through so much pain that it killed him. Maybe he deserved it for everything he had done, but she felt terrible. Feeling terrible made her feel even more terrible which-

She sighed irritably and shoved the thoughts out of her head. Gat tightened his grip and nuzzled into her neck. "Tired?" he asked. Claryssa nodded and leaned into his head. She looked down at her hands that she had since washed of Makzi's blood. Gat covered her hands with his and lowered them down. "'S not yer fault," he said softly. "Ya had to. No ot'er choice."

"Trying to make me cry again?" she asked, jokingly. He shook his head.

"No, jus' lettin' ya know it's not yer fault," he said. "Killin' someone's a big deal."

She sighed and let her head loll back against his shoulder. "Yeah, just," she hesitated for a second. "Talk about it some other time, okay? I'm kind of tired." Actually, she was exhausted from all the crying. Gat lifted her up and carried her back to the tent. They crawled in and he flopped down on the mat that was spread over the ground with a grunt. She sat on her knees for a while, becoming increasingly aware of him watching her. She looked at him.

"What?" she asked. He shrugged. On a whim, she leaned over, maneuvered her way between his tusks and kissed him. He made a happy little purring sound and wrapped an arm around her hip. She shifted so she was lying on top of him. He purred and pulled her leg over so she was straddling him, and ran a rough hand up her back. She pulled on his shirt so he was sitting up and kept pulling until he was over her.

"_Well, that escalated quickly,_" was the last coherent thought she had that night.

It was wild, painful, amazing, scary...and wonderful. The two quickly stopped caring if the others heard them, and in fact the world outside the tent stopped existing.


	9. Epic Climactic Battle

Rightly Considered Inconvenience

Chapter 9: Epic Climactic Battle

A/N: BECAUSE I FORESHADOWED HIM BUT UNFORTUNATELY HE WON'T HAVE TIME TO PROPERLY ESTABLISH HIMSELF AS A VIABLE ANTAGONIST.  
TBH, Makzi has been more of an antagonist than this guy, seriously.  
Ugh, it's been too long since I played. I feel like I'm stupid having to look up things like the spell list for Dark Apotheosis.

* * *

Claryssa opened her eyes, and-_PAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN_.

She whimpered slightly as her whole body ached. Even the thought of any movement caused sparks to course through her body. She was lying completely naked on top of a similarly clad Gat, who was fast asleep still and had a rather smug look on his face. She would punch him if she could move her body without crying. It also didn't help that his breathing was making the pain all that worse. She growled into his chest. He shifted slightly in his sleep and sparks flashed in front of her eyes.

"That was such a terrible idea," she muttered. He took in a deep breath in her back groaned in protest. She let out a thin whine. That woke him up with a start. Lightning flashed through her brain and body, and she started whimpering. Gat started to freak out a little bit, but then realized what was going on. He laughed and shouted out of the tent for his brother. He rolled the little priest off of him as gingerly as he could manage.

"Sorreh, sweetheart," he said, still chuckling a little. "I wasn' as gentle wit' ya as I shoulda been."

"_No you weren't_," she wanted to shout at him, but all she could manage was a vague growl. She had vague memories of being twisted and bent into positions that her body was not used to. "_You ass_," she thought.

He reached for an abandoned blanket to pull over her and dug through discarded clothes for his pants. He was just arching his back to pull them all the way up when Jen'zin stuck his head in.

"Ya called, Gat?" Jen asked, a smirk across his face.

"Yeh, um," he hesitated and looked over at Claryssa, whose face was pale and her eyes wide. "I was a bit _too_ rough wit' her last night."

"Hadn' noticed!" Jen laughed, and crawled into the tent. "I t'ink da far side o' Hellfire didn' hear ya last night, gonna hafta try hardah next time." He chuckled and experimentally lifted up Claryssa's leg up an inch.

He was greeted by first a yelp of pain, followed closely by a snarl from the girl. "Yeh, def'nitely too rough," he laughed and ruffled up the priest's already mussed hair. "Ya been hangin' 'round trolls too much if yo' growlin' like dat."

"It's a bit sexy," Gat grinned.

Jen'zin chuckled rubbed his hands together and set them on her hips and forced healing magic deep down into her muscles. "Sorry 'bout this, but bear wit' me. Ya don' got not'in' I ain' seen before." He went over her whole body, flipping her over at various points despite her protests to her lack of clothing. Gat hovered over his shoulder the whole time like a worried mother bird. The whole process took an hour or so, and the shaman brushed his hands off when it was over.

"I ain' gonna be 'round to do dis always, yeah? Try not ta break her!" he chuckled and patted his brother's cheek before crawling back out of the tent.

Claryssa groaned, utterly embarrassed. Her whole body didn't hurt anymore, but she was still regretting throwing herself at Gat last night. As if hearing her thoughts, the rogue wrapped her up in his arms and nuzzled into her neck. She did her best to not be angry with him, but it was kind of hard when he had this air of smug satisfaction about him. She elbowed him in his stomach, to no avail. He purred in her ear, and she gave in and turned in his arms to wrap her arms around his neck.

"You're ridiculous," she muttered.

"A little," he agreed.

Eventually, she worked her way out of his grip (she was sure he held on to her so tightly because he liked to watch her struggle) and pulled her clothes on. She fended him off yet again to his amusement and scrambled out of the tent.

She instantly wished that she hadn't.

Everyone turned to look at her, with expressions that varied between amusement and and full-on "I know what _you_ did last night" looks. She froze up and tried to duck back into the tent, but Gat had exited and picked her up by the waist and slung her over his shoulder. She wailed and beat against his back half-heartedly. Instead, she was more upset about her face being bright red. Breakfast had already been made since the two of them had slept in, and he sat down and set her next to him.

No one said anything out of the ordinary, or asked anything, or made any fun. Yet. Claryssa was looking at their faces, the bit lips, the poorly-concealed grins. They _wanted_ to make fun of her, and them not doing it somehow made the whole thing so much worse. She didn't really feel regretful about sleeping with Gat, but she expected something to be said. It was making her a bit paranoid.

She kept it together though, and after packing up the tents and gear, they were off again. Claryssa was once again seated on Razuli with Gat, something that Thal felt was worthy of teasing.

The night elf was lounging across her nightsaber's back, her legs kicked up on the small pile of gear that was was tied to the back of her saddle. She was sharpening one of her daggers, something that wasn't really necessary as they were always in impeccable shape. The big cat walked alongside the raptor with a fluid stride, its rider's eyes fixed completely on the human on top who was trying to hide herself in the troll.

"Weren't you _just_ bitching about not having enough space?" Thal asked, her voice gloating.

"I'm fine with it now," Claryssa replied stiffly.

"Oh yes, I know you are," the elf replied. "Everyone knows you are. You made it very obvious that you quite fine with it." Claryssa sunk farther into Gat's body, blushing all the way up to the roots of her hair.

"Ya don' gotta tease her," Gat chided. He did laugh, though.

"Sure I do," Thal responded lightly, flipping her dagger in her hands before putting it back in its sheath. She shoved the whetstone she was working with haphazardly into the bundle she was using as a footrest. "It's practically my job to make fun of everyone in our little dysfunctional family."

"We're a family, eh? What is dis den, incest?" Gat asked, grinning.

"It's whatever you want to call it," the other rogue purred. "If incest gets you all hot, then go ahead and think that that."

Claryssa covered her face with her hands. She was sure that her hands might melt from the heat coming off of her face. The wicked chuckle from the troll made it even worse.

"Maybeh," he said, his whole body shaking with suppressed laughter. "She can be my little sistah!"

"I didn't know you were in to those sorts of things," Zalgash said, pulling up on the other side of Razuli. "You might scare her off saying such things."

"Oh, I 'unno," Gat said, his voice growing a bit wicked, "she's quite eager to please."

The banter continued for a few more minutes. The priest was sure that if it went on for much longer, she would stroke out. She looked miserably up at the sky and watched Xerethaku spiral around above the treetops, light glinting off of Vilzek's goggles now and then.

Suddenly, a black shadow swooped over and with a roar that resounded in her very bones, the nether drake was snatched out of the sky in the blink of an eye.

"Holy shit!" someone shouted from the back of the line. There were a few seconds of chaos as everyone freaked out or tried to settle down mounts that were spooked by the sudden attack.

"It's headed south!" Xeledar shouted, wheeling his charger around. As one, the whole group charged after him, forsaking the road and cutting around trees and through bushes, ignoring the surprised wildlife.

Claryssa held on to Gat's thighs for dear life. Razuli was even worse at sprinting than Issa was. He careened around trees in sharp, tight corners, nearly catching the troll's knees on the bark. He leaped over even the smallest divot in the grass, his powerful legs nearly flinging the priest from her precarious seat with every impact with the ground. She thought fondly back to riding atop Issa, who was currently racing Xeledar and Karaellin's chargers ahead of the pack. She was actually starting to feel a little bit motion sick. She tried closing her eyes, but that made it worse, and not seeing what was ahead to properly anticipate the raptor's movements (as if that was at all possible) made it even more dangerous.

They ran for a long time, taking short walk breaks to give the mounts a breather. Claryssa watched the tall walls pass them by on their right, a tall column of light visible in the distance. "What's that?" she asked.

"Hm?" Gat looked up to where she was pointing. "Shattrath. It's da largest city still standin' here. Ev'ryone tryin' ta keep dis place toget'ah is dere."

"I see," she said. His answer was disappointing. She had hoped he would give her something to keep her mind off of Vilzek. There hadn't been much talking since he was snatched out of the sky, except when a splatter of blood was found that showed they were on the right path. The blood had a weird shimmer about it that Xeledar said was from a nether drake. Every so often a darker red smear of blood would show up, but they were baffled about it a little. Zalgash seemed convinced it was dragon blood.

"What would a dragon be doing here?" Thal snapped when he said that during a walk. She was obviously taking the sudden abduction of the hunter very hard. She would vary between almost looking like she was going to cry to fits of rage. "And what the hell kind of dragon has blood like that?"

"Maybe a black dragon," Claryssa said, leaning against Gat's arm.

"Don't be stupid," the elf snapped. "The black dragonflight hasn't done _shit_ since Deathwing died, and they certainly don't go snatching people up out of the sky for no goddamn reason like a giant fucking falcon."

"Then if it was, it obviously has some kind of motive for doing so," Bhazrael snapped back. "And there's no proof that the whole damn dragonflight is in on this, it's probably just one nutcase."

Thal opened her mouth to retort but shut it. They set out at a run again.

The blood trail skirted the outside of Shattrath and then made a line southwest. "I think it is headed toward the bone wastes," Karaellin said.

"Ugh, don' say dat," Jen'zin wailed. "I can feel mah sinuses gettin' all plugged up already."

"Pardon?" the death night asked, blinking.

"Undead make me sneeze," the shaman said morosely.

"Well, you have yet to have any reaction to me," Karaellin pointed out. Jen'zin blinked.

"I haven' have I?" He laughed. "Maybe it's all been in mah head."

"Perhaps," the elf responded, and refocused his dead gaze forward to look for the next blood splatter.

However, the next sign wasn't a blood splatter. Xeledar and his brother were stopped suddenly, and the rest of the group pulled in their mounts to see what they were staring at. Thal let out a screech.

A troll arm, severed from mid bicep down lay bloody in the grass. The bone was cracked and splintered around its sharp fracture, and the flesh was tattered. It was littered with scratches and a wicked burn. Thal vaulted off of her nightsaber and knelt next to it. She stretched out a tentative, hesitant hand which quavered for a second before touching the hand. "It's still a little warm," she said, her voice surprisingly steady.

"Doesn't mean he's dead, losing an arm," Zalgash said, but his face showed his doubts. "Saw a troll lose both legs and an arm and still lived for another eighteen years."

"Oh yeah!" Jen'zin said, his face lighting up. "Dat blacksmith guy, dat was always hollerin' at his assistants 'cause dey were turnin' de iron eit'ah too fast or not fast enough."

"Yeah, that guy. He'd strap himself in to this solid metal stool and just hammer away. Unfortunately, his business died down because his dumbass apprentices could never hold the metal quite right and the quality was never the same."

"Didn' he resort ta makin' wagon parts?"

"Yeah, a real shame."

"If you two are _done_," Thal hissed, "I would like to get a move on before Vilzek bleeds to death."

It was only another ten minutes of riding before they broke through the treeline and across the sharp transition between lush forest and the dead earth that was the bone wastes. It was a shock to go from the dark, earthy greens and blues to sudden gray and desolation. They didn't hesitate on their charge, but then they were hit by the first solid breeze coming across the dead plain.

"_AHHTCHOOO_," Jen'zin sneezed, nearly flinging himself from Issa's saddle with the force of it.

"Maybe it's just bone dust or something," Karaellin offered.

"Ehh, mebbe," the shaman muttered, rubbing his sinuses. He didn't say anything beyond that, but his expression was miserable.

"I see people," Gelt said.

Ahead, there were the distant shadows of a handful of people standing next to a larger shape. Not much could be discerned until they got nearer, when they discovered that four of the five people were demons and the large shape was a nether drake. They slowed and approached cautiously, stopping within fifty feet of the group.

"So glad that you accepted my invitation," the non-demon of the group shouted across the space. He appeared to be a human. Appeared to be. No sensible human wore capes like that. "Please, come closer. I wish to speak, and shouting irritates me."

Amid some grumbled reservations, the group reluctantly came forward to about fifteen feet. They could clearly see Vilzek hunched against his broken and battered mount, the stump from his left arm wrapped in a crude, stained bandage. his goggles had gone missing. Xerethaku wasn't moving, and his one wing was bent at a stomach-churning angle. Deep gashes laced the drake's body, and burns covered a lot of him.

"Have no worry about your friend, he's not dead," the man said in a pleasant, conversational tone, "yet. But that is exactly why we are here. I wish to trade."

"Yeah, don't continue," Xeledar spat. "The old troll for the little girl, is that about right?"

The man's smile remained fixed and friendly. "Interrupting is rather rude. Then again, you excel at that, don't you, _paladin_?" The last word was laced with derision. A muscle flickered in Xeledar's cheek, but he didn't respond. The man continued. "Yes, as your friend so crassly put it, the hunter for the little girl. Of course it's a ridiculously unfair trade and I don't expect you to take it without coercion." He motioned to the motley assortment of demons around him.

"An' whaddya wan' wit' her?" Gat growled. His arm was uncomfortably tight around Claryssa's midriff. It was nice to know he cared, but it made it hard to breathe. The man clucked and shook his finger.

"I am not some villain in a child's story," he said, sounding amused. "You're not going to catch me monologuing my grand plan to a bunch on ingrates. In short, I need her. Why? I paid good money for her, that's why. Now, risking using a ridiculous trope, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Well, _obviously_," Jen'zin said expansively with a grandiose wave of his arm as he paced a nervous Issa between the two groups. "Yet ya gotta be crazy ta t'ink dat we're jus' gonna give her up like she's not'in'. Ya gotta fight us if ya want her," he paused, "but ya were expectin' dat answer, yeah?"

"Yes, I was." The man turned and made a gesture with his hand. Azbek let out a violent, snarly hiss from the back of the group.

With a sudden crack that was felt more than heard, they were surrounded by hordes of lesser demons. Obviously cannon fodder, but there was not much to be done. Xeledar and his brother forked out to attack the front half head-on and Zalgash vaulted off of Grel and charged straight into the swarm to the rear right quarter. Bhazrael leaped from the back of his hawkstrider and smashed into the ground with tremendous force in the midst of the remaining quarter, let out a roar and intense waves of fire pulsed from him as he slashed at nearby demons with shadow magic. The others branched out accordingly in an almost concerted fashion to take down the nuisances as fast as possible. Gat kissed Claryssa's temple before jumping to join the fray around Karaellin.

The mass seemed to be dying out quickly but then the second wave came in, slightly stronger than the previous. Claryssa thought it was a wonderful strategy; a small, nuisance wave to tire out the enemy before sending in the stronger forces. If she were ever to become an evil mastermind, she would have to keep it in mind. She shook her head and dismounted. Couldn't get distracted. The others were starting to be pushed back into the circle, much to the panic of the mounts. They were failing.

That couldn't happen. Claryssa didn't want to be captured by this man, or whatever he was, but even more than that, there was no way in _hell_ she was going to let the people who had gone so far to get her back fail. No way. She took a deep breath and reached deep inside of her.

She spread out her arms in a sharp gesture, and as she did so, a wave of holy energy erupted from her, spreading out like a circle and solidifying into a massive dome of solid light. Demons caught in the path of the dome were incinerated by white fire, and smouldering lumps of flesh were left. The stronger ones staggered back but were quickly cut down. The demons outside seemed to recoil slightly, and they waited. Not missing a beat, the group inside the shield regrouped. As if to add insult to injury, Gelt reached his feathered moonkin arms up and called down stars of arcane magic to rain down on their assailants. There were squawks and roars of pain and rage outside as these stars smashed into demons with audible crunches and thunks. A few tried to claw their ways through the barrier to get at the druid, who made a lewd gesture in their direction.

Xeledar, Karaellin, Bhazrael, and Zalgash retook their positions. The death knight took the opportunity to take advantage of the bones that made up the ground cover, and began pulling up a small army of ghouls. Jen'zin made a face, but didn't say anything or sneeze.

The man in the black cape apparently found this new barrier unwanted and intolerable. There was a roar from beyond the solid wave of demons and a huge black shape rose from behind them. The demons directly in front were engulfed in a blaze of fire that swept over the dome of light, which wavered and then snapped, thankfully after the fire had dissipated. A great black dragon rose from the smoking ruin in front of him and loomed over the group with a snarl.

"You just _had_ to make things difficult," he growled.

Gat made an upward gesture to his brother who made a corresponding upwards gesture with his whole arm. Gat was lifted off his feet in a whirlwind until he was at eye level with the dragon. The two sized each other up for a second before the troll cocked his arm back and delivered a bunch to the dragon's snout that was so hard it actually sent it reeling for a second. The whirlwind vanished and Gat fell to the ground and rolled backwards. The others took that as signal of sorts. A dark, menacing meteor plummeted down from above before a spear of silver light pierced through the center of it and hit the dragon, sparking into arcane fire. The meteor broke into a few smaller pieces and smashed into the dragon's head, back, wings, and into some of the demons around him.

Jen'zin managed to grab the giant hammer from Issa's saddle before the raptor sprinted into the enemy ranks herself. The hammer sparked with electricity, and the shaman threw the hammer with all his might. The weapon hit the dragon just below the eye, and an audible _crack_. The dragon roared and flooded the clearing with fire.

A few quick casts on the part of Claryssa had spheres of holy magic protecting the others from the fire. Flashes of light arced around the dragon's head. It roared and clawed at his attackers, mauling its demonic allies more than anything else. Any hits he scored on the targets were quickly mended by Claryssa. The girl was actually throwing out spells rapid-fire, even managing to throw out a few columns of holy fire.

The dragon threw out his wings to take flight. Thal and Gat, one on either side, sprinted across the heads of a few demons and jumped high up and drove their weapons into his wings. They kicked off and let gravity pull them downwards, tearing the membrane as they went, effectively grounding the beast. He roared in pain and rage, a "_SON OF A BITCH_" barely audible. He lashed out and caught Gat in a swipe. The troll flew through the air, up and over their heads. Claryssa threw out a hand and a thread of white light wrapped around him and snapped him back through the air towards her. She focused a few spells on him and the few deep gashes he earned from the dragon's claws knit themselves back together.

"Easy on da whiplash, sweetheart," he muttered, and ran back into the fray.

Jen'zin was on top of the dragon's head, his legs wrapped around his horns for stability. He was punching the dragon's head in a cold, methodical manner. Sparks and fire flew with each impact. Spectral wolves bit and clawed at every part of the dragon they could reach. One caught a hold of the relatively thin hide right under the jaw and hung there. The dragon floundered and tried to claw the irritations away to no avail.

The shaman raised his hands above his head and a low rumble echoes across the wastes. Claryssa poured all magic she could into him to aid his attack. His eyes flashed and a thick bolt of lightning dropped down from the sky and straight through him and into the dragon. The beast convulsed and collapsed. The few demons that weren't destroyed broke and fled.

The others gathered around the dragon, who was still somehow alive, but was in some kind of shock.

"Of-of c-c-c-course this happens," he slurred, his tongue half-bitten off.

"Did you really expect anything else?" Gelt asked, reverted back to his normal form. "Anyone who deals with demons meets a foul end one way or another."

"I know," was the reply. "I di-d-d-didn't exp...exp...ect it quite so soon, th-th-though." His whole body shuddered. "I guesssssssss this is m-more m-m-merciful than I would have oth-therwise gotten. B-b-be done with it, then."

Xeledar stepped up and raised his sword. A fire seemed to burn across it before he plunged it into the dragon's skull. Everyone leaped back at a sudden, violent convulsion. The dragon's body settled down, and didn't move again.

In the lull, Thal dashed over to where Vilzek was, still slumped against Xerethaku. The others made their way, except Claryssa, who leaned against Gelt's kodo for support. Her adrenaline was quickly fading, and her eyes were starting to get hazy. She felt incredibly drained, and her legs were shaking under her weight. Everyone was more or less alright, though. She could vaguely see the others lift up the old hunter, who was walking with some aid. The relief she felt was the last blanket her mind needed, and her vision faded out completely.


End file.
